
RELATING HER HISTORY TO THE AUTHOR. 



LIFE 



OF 



MARY JEMISON 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 



By JAMES E. SEAVER. 



FOURTH EDITION, 

WITH GEOGRAPHICAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTES 



NEW YORK AND AUBURN: 

MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN. 

ROCHESTER: D. M. DEWEY. 

1856. 



1 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, 

By D. M. DEWEY, 

In the Clerk's office of the District Court for the Northern District of 
New York. 



C. E. FELTON, 
STEREOTYPER, . . BUFFALO. 



/ 



LIFE OF MARY JEMISON, 

DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 

THE WHITE WOMAN OF THE GENESEE 






PUBLISHER'S NOTE. 



The life of Mary Jemison was one of singular vicis- 
situde and trial. Taken captive at the early age of thir- 
teen years, and trained in the wilderness to the ordinary 
duties of the Indian female, she became imbued with their 
sentiments, and transformed essentially into one of their 
number. Born on the sea, as it were the child of accident, 
made an orphan by the tomahawk of the Red man, it was 
her sad destiny to become lost to the race from which she 
sprung, and affiliated with the one which she had every 
reason to abhor. This transformation, the reverse of the 
order of nature, was perfected by her becoming the wife 
of an Indian, and the mother of Indian children. As if 
in punishment of this unnatural alliance, two of her sons 
meet with a violent death at the hands of their brother, 
and afterward, to complete the tragedy, the fratricide 
himself dies by the hand of violence. 

Notwithstanding the severity of these domestic calam- 
ities, and the toilsome life she was forced to lead, she met 



8 publisher's note. 

her trials with fortitude, and lived to the great age of 
ninety-one years. Her life, however, was not without its 
"sunny side." She found attached friends among her 
Seneca kindred, and was ever treated by them with con- 
sideration and kindness. The esteem and affection with 
which she was cherished is indicated by the liberal pro- 
vision made for her by the Seneca chiefs, before they dis- 
posed of their hereditary domain. They ceded to her in 
fee-simple, and for her individual use, the "Gardeau 
Reservation " upon the Genesee River, which contained 
upward of nineteen thousand acres of land; and thus 
raised her and her posterity to an affluence beyond the 
utmost dreams of the imagination, had she chosen after- 
ward to retain it, and return to civilized life. It was not 
the least hardship of her case, that, when liberty and res- 
toration were finally offered, and urged upon her, she 
found they came too late for her acceptance; and she 
was forced to fulfill her destiny by dying, as she had lived, 
a Seneca woman. 

The narrative of her life can not fail to awaken our 
sympathies, while it may serve to remind us of the perils 
which surrounded our fathers during the period of colo- 
nization. As time wears away we are apt to forget, in the 
fullness of our present security, the dangers which sur- 
rounded the founders of the original colonies, from the 
period of the French and Indian war to the close of the 



publisher's note. 9 

Revolution. It is well not to lose our familiarity with 
these trying scenes, lest we become insensible of our ever- 
continuing debt of gratitude to those who met those dan- 
gers manfully, to secure to their descendants the blessings 
we now enjoy. This narrative, while it brings to light a 
few of the darkest transactions of our early history, is not 
without some instruction. 

It is proper to state that this work was first published 
in 1824, during the lifetime of Mrs. Jemison, and that 
shortly afterward, the author, to whose diligence we are 
indebted for the preservation of the incidents of her his- 
tory, himself deceased. In 1842, the work was revised 
by Ebenezer Mix, Esq., who also added chapters V, VIII, 
and XV, and the four articles in the Appendix. 

The frequent inquiries made for the work of the pub- 
lisher since it went out of print induced him to undertake 
the publication of the present edition. The engraving 
which forms the frontispiece and also the illustrations 
are new, and were designed for this edition. As the pro- 
gress of Indian research, made since that day, has revealed 
some errors in the text, numerous foot-notes, historical 
and geographical, have been added, corrective or explan- 
atory, which are now, for the first time, published with 
the original narrative. 

Rochester, K. Y., March, 1856. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The peace which was concluded between the United 
States and Great Britain in 1783 led to a treaty of peace 
and amnesty between the United States and the Indian 
confederacy called the Six Nations, which took place at 
Fort Stanwix, (now Borne, N. Y.,) in 1784, conducted by 
commissioners on the part of the United States, and the 
chiefs, warriors, and head men of the Six Nations, on 
their part. 

By this treaty, all the prisoners who had been taken 
and were at that time retained by the Indians were to be 
set at liberty. On this joyful event, those prisoners who 
had escaped the tomahawk, the gauntlet, and the sacrifi- 
cial fire, were released from bondage, and restored to their 
friends, to society, and to the world. Although the num- 
ber of prisoners thus released were few, in proportion to 
the great number who had been taken, they were so 
numerous that their return brought the legends of deeds 
of torture and death to every section of the country. 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

These horrid tales required not the aid of fiction, or the 
persuasive powers of rhetoric, to highten their colorings, 
or gain credence to their shocking truths. In those days, 
Indian barbarities were the constant topic of the domestic 
fireside, the parlor, the hall, and the forum. It is pre- 
sumed that, at this time, there are but few native citizens 
that have passed the middle age who do not distinctly re- 
collect of hearing such frightful accounts of Indian bar- 
barities, oft repeated, in the nursery and in the family 
circle, until it almost caused their hair to stand erect, and 
deprived them of the power of motion. 

Time, however, has produced a confusion of incidents 
in those tales, and enveloped the fidelity of their trans- 
mission to us in clouds of doubt. To rescue from obliv- 
ion, and preserve in their primitive purity, some of those 
legends, and to exemplify and record, for the use of pos- 
terity as well as for the present generation, a faithful 
delineation of the characteristic traits of the Iroquois, is 
the object of these memoirs. 

At the same treaty, the Six Nations, or Iroquois, were 
left in undisturbed possession of the greater portion of the 
state of New York, and had the right of possession guar- 
antied to them by the United States of all the territory 
west of a line called the property line, running nearly paral- 
lel with, and less than eighty miles west of the Hudson Riv- 
er, two small tracts excepted. At this time, Mary Jemison 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

had been with the Indians twenty -nine years — seven had 
transpired during the French war with the British, in 
which the Six Nations raised the tomahawk against the 
British and Americans ; and seven during the revolution- 
ary war, in which the Indians arrayed themselves on the 
side of the British against the Americans; there being 
an interval of peace of fifteen years between — if peace it 
could be called — when they were constantly sending war 
parties against other Indian tribes, south and north, from 
the torrid to the frigid zone, and west to the Rocky 
Mountains. 

During this time, Mrs. Jemison had been twice married 
to Indian chiefs, and had a husband and seven children 
then living. She, too, was nearly two hundred miles 
from any white settlement, and knew not that she had a 
white relative or friend on earth : she, therefore, resolved 
not to accept of her freedom, but to spend the remainder 
of her days with the Indians, where she knew she had 
affectionate relatives and many kind friends. This reso- 
lution she earned fully into effect, and became their faith- 
ful and correct chronicler for more than three-fourths of a 
century. 

At this time, 1784, and for several years afterward, no 
settlements of white people were made in the state west 
of Cherry Valley, on the head waters of the Susquehanna, 
and the C4erman Flats, on the Mohawk, as those places 



14 INTBODUCTION. 

were situated nearly as far west as the property line, the 
boundary of the Indian lands v So fresh were the wounds 
which the whites had received from their savage neigh- 
bors, that the Indians were viewed with a jealous eye, 
even when unmolested and unprovoked. Under these 
circumstances, peaceable citizens were little inclined to 
trespass on their lands, or give them the least pretext for 
a quarrel, by even traveling into their country. No 
white people, therefore, visited their villages, except 
some half-savage traders, and a few of the refuse of soci- 
ety, who, to escape the meshes of civil or criminal law, 
bade adieu to civilized life, and took shelter in the re- 
cesses of the forest, under the protection of its lords. 

The Indian title to the lands surrounding Mrs. Jemi- 
son's residence was not sold to the whites until the great 
Council in 1797, when may be dated the first time of her 
associating with moral, social, civilized man, from the 
time of her childhood, after the lapse of forty-two years. 
Still, she had retained her native language, with great 
purity ; and had treasured up, and constantly kept in her 
own breast, ail those moral and social virtues, by the 
precepts of which civilized society professes to be guided, 
and by their directions always to be governed. 

At length, the richness and fertility of the soil excited 
emigration ; and here and there a family settled down and 
commenced improvements in the country which had 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

recently been the property of the aborigines. Those who 
settled near the Genesee River soon became acquainted 
with "The White Woman," as Mrs. Jemison was called, 
whose history they anxiously sought, both as a matter of 
interest and curiosity. Frankness characterized her con- 
duct, and without reserve she would readily gratify them 
by relating some of the most important periods of her life. 

Although her bosom companion was an ancient warrior, 
and notwithstanding her children and associates were all 
Indians, yet it was found that she possessed an uncom- 
mon share of hospitality, and that her friendship was 
well worth courting and preserving. Her house was the 
stranger's home: from her table the hungry were re- 
freshed ; she made the naked as comfortable as her means 
would admit; and in all her actions, discovered so much 
natural goodness of heart, that her admirers increased in 
proportion to the extension of her acquaintance, and she 
became celebrated as the friend of the distressed. She 
was the protectress of the homeless fugitive, and made 
welcome the weary wanderer. Many still live to com- 
memorate her benevolence toward them when prisoners 
during the war, and to ascribe their deliverance to the 
mediation of "The Yv T hite Woman." 

The settlements of civilized society increased around 
her, and the whole country was inhabited by a rich and 
respectable people, principally from New England, as 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

much distinguished for their spirit of inquisitiveness as 
for their habits of industry and honesty, who had all 
heard from one source and another a part of her life in 
detached pieces, and had obtained ah idea that the 
whole taken in connection would afford instruction and 
amusement. 

Many gentlemen of respectability felt anxious that her 
narrative might be laid before the public, with a view 
not only to perpetuate the remembrance of the atrocities 
of the savages in former times, but to preserve some 
historical facts which they supposed to be intimately 
connected with her life, and which otherwise must be lost. 

Forty years had passed since the close of the Revolu- 
tionary war, and almost seventy years had seen Mrs. 
Jemison with the Indians, when Daniel W. Banister, 
Esq., at the instance of several gentlemen, and prompted 
by his own ambition to add something to the accumu- 
lating fund of useful knowledge, resolved, in the autumn 
of 1823, to embrace that time, while she was capable of 
recollecting and reciting the scenes through which she 
had passed, to collect from herself, and to publish to the 
world, an accurate account of her life. 

I was employed to collect the materials, and prepare 
the work for the press ; and accordingly went to the 
house of Mrs. Jennet Whaley, in the town of Castile, 
Genesee County, N. Y., in company with the publisher, 



INTRODUCTION. 17 

who procured the interesting subject of the following 
narrative to come to that place, (a distance of four miles,) 
and there repeat the story of her eventful life. She 
came on foot, in company with Mr. Thomas Clute, whom 
she considered her protector, and tarried several days ; 
which time was busily occupied in taking a sketch of her 
narrative as she recited it. 

In stature, she is very short, considerably under the 
middle size; but stands tolerably erect, with her head 
bent forward, apparently from her having for a long 
time been accustomed to carrying heavy burdens, sup- 
ported by a strap placed across her forehead. Her com- 
plexion is very white for a woman of her age, and 
although the wrinkles of fourscore years are deeply in- 
dented in her cheeks, yet the crimson of youth is dis- 
tinctly visible. Her eyes are light blue, a little faded 
by age, but naturally brilliant and sparkling. Her sight 
is quite dim, though she is able to perform her necessary 
labor without the assistance of glasses. Her cheek-bones 
are high, and rather prominent ; and her front teeth, in 
the lower jaw, are sound and good. "When she looks up, 
and is engaged in conversation, her countenance is very 
expressive ; but from her long residence with the Indians, 
she has acquired the habit of peeping from under the 
eyebrows, as they do, with the head inclined downward. 
Formerly, her hair was of a light chestnut brown ; it is 



18 INTRODUCTION, 

now quite gray, a little curled, of middling length, and 
tied in a bunch behind. She informed me that she had 
never worn a cap or a comb. 

She speaks English plainly and distinctly, slightly 
tinged with the Irish idiom, and has the use of words so 
well as to render herself intelligible on any subject with 
which she is acquainted. Her recollection and memory 
exceeded my expectation. It can not be reasonably sup- 
posed that a person of her age has kept the events of 
seventy years in so complete a chain as to be able to 
assign to each its proper time and place. She, however, 
made her recital with as few obvious mistakes as might 
be expected from a person of fifty. Indeed, in every case, 
where she attempted to give dates, she was remarkably 
correct, — so uniformly so that she coincided exactly with 
history, except in one instance, which was the surrender 
of Fort Da Quesne by the French to the English; and 
this is more to be attributed to her ignorance at the time 
than to the treachery of her memory, for the fort was 
always filled with English or Yankee traders, trappers, 
hunters, and outlaws, as well as Frenchmen; and the 
Ohio Indians knew little and cared less who commanded 
the fort, so long as they could trade there to suit them- 
selves. Under such circumstances, it is not remarkable 
that a young woman, fifteen or sixteen years old, domes- 
ticated among the Indians, and residing three or four 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

hundred miles from the fort, should not know the precise 
time that the French flag was struck and the English 
hoisted in its stead ; which absolutely took place in 1758, 
while she resided in that country. 

She walks with a quick step, without a staff, and can 
yet cross a stream on a log or pole as steadily as any 
other person. Her passions are easily excited. At a 
number of periods in her narration, tears trickled down 
her grief-worn cheek, and at the same time a rising sigh 
would stop her utterance. 

Industry is a virtue which she has uniformly practiced 
from the day of her adoption to the present. She pounds 
her samp, cooks for herself, gathers and chops her wood, 
feeds her cattle and poultry, and performs other laborious 
services. Last season, she planted, tended, and gathered 
her corn ; in short, she is always busy. 

Her dress, at the time I saw her, was made and worn 
after the usual Indian fashion. She had on a brown, un- 
dressed flannel short-gown, with long sleeves, the skirt 
reaching to the hips, being tied before in two places with 
ctaer-skin strings ; below the skirt of the gown was to be 
seen three or four inches of the lower extremity of a 
cotton shirt, which was without collar or sleeves, and 
open before. Her petticoat, or the Indian substitute for 
that garment, was composed of about a yard and a 
quarter of blue broadcloth, with the lists on, and sewed 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

together at the ends. This was tied around her waist, or 
rather above her hips, under her shirt, with a string, in 
such a manner as to leave one-fourth of a yard or more 
of the top of the cloth to be turned over the string, and 
display the top list, and four or five inches of the cloth 
below the bottom of the shirt — the main body of the 
garment and the other list reaching down to the calves 
of her legs ; below which was to be seen her leggins, 
consisting of pieces of blue broadcloth, wrapped around 
her legs, and tied or pinned on, reaching from her knees 
to just within the tops of her buckskin moccasins. She 
wore no footings or socks on her feet at any season, un- 
less some rags wrapped around her toes could be con- 
sidered such. Over her shoulders was wrapped a common 
Indian or Dutch blanket, and on her head she wore an 
old, brown woolen cloth, somewhat in the shape of a 
sun-bonnet. 

Thus attired — and it will be recollected that she was 
not caught in her dishabille, as she had come from home, 
the distance of four miles, for the express purpose of 
meeting us — thus attired, I say, we met the owner of 
two square miles of very fertile and productive land, ly- 
ing in the midst of a dense population, and near an ex- 
cellent market — with an annuity of three hundred dollars 
a year, secured to her, her heirs, and assigns forever. 
Yet such was the dress this woman was not only contented 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

to wear but delighted in wearing. Habit having rendered 
it convenient and comfortable, she wore it as a matter 
of choice. 

Her house, in which she lives, is twenty by twenty- 
eight feet ; built of square timber, with a shingled roof 
and a framed stoop. In the center of the house is a 
chimney of stones and sticks, in which there are two fire- 
places. She has a good framed barn, twenty-six by 
thirty-six, well filled, and owns a fine stock of cattle and 
horses. Besides the buildings above mentioned, she owns 
a number of buildings occupied by tenants, who work her 
flats upon shares. 

Her dwelling is on the west side of Genesee River, 
about one hundred rods north of the Great Slide — a 
curiosity which will hereafter be described. 

Mrs. Jemison appeared sensible of her ignorance of the 
manners of the white people, and for that reason was not 
familiar, except with those with whom she was intimately 
acquainted. In fact, she was, to appearance, so jealous 
of her rights, or afraid that she should say something that 
would be injurious to herself or family, that if Mr. Clute 
had not been present, we should have been unable to have 
obtained her history. She, however, soon became free 
and unembarrassed in her conversation, and spoke with a 
degree of mildness, candor, and simplicity, that is calcu- 
lated to remove all doubts as to the veracity of the 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

speaker. The vices of the Indians she appeared to palli- 
ate, or at least not to aggravate, and seemed to take pride 
in extolling their virtues. A kind of family pride inclined 
her to withhold whatever would blot the character of her 
descendants, and perhaps induced her to keep back many 
things that would have been interesting. 

For the life of her last husband we are indebted to her 
cousin, Mr. George Jemison, to whom she referred us for 
information on that subject generally. The thoughts of 
his deeds, probably, chilled her old heart, and made her 
dread to rehearse them ; and at the same time she well 
knew they were no secret, for she had frequently heard 
him relate the whole, not only to her cousin but to others. 

Before she left us, she was very sociable, and she re- 
sumed her naturally pleasant countenance, enlivened with 
a smile. 

Her neighbors speak of her as possessing one of the 
happiest tempers and dispositions, and give her the name 
of never having done a censurable act to their knowledge. 

Her habits are those of the Indians — she sleeps on 
skins without a bedstead; sits upon the floor, or on a 
bench ; and when she eats, holds her victuals on her lap, 
or in her hands. 

Her ideas of religion correspond in every respect with 
those of the great mass of the Senecas. She applauds 
virtue, and condemns vice. She believes in a future state. 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

in which the good will be happy, and the bad miserable ; 
and that the acquisition of that happiness depends prima- 
rily upon human volition, and the consequent good deeds 
of the happy recipient of blessedness. But she is a stran- 
ger to the doctrines of the Christian religion. 

Her daughters are said to be active and enterprising 
women ; and her grandsons, who have arrived to manhood, 
are considered able, decent, and respectable men, in their 
tribe, and many of them are greeted with respect in civil- 
ized society. 

Having in a cursory manner introduced the principal* 
subject of the following pages, I proceed to the narration 
of a life that has been viewed with attention, for a great 
number of years, by a few, and which will be read by the 
public with mixed sensations of pleasure and pain, joy 
and sorrow, and with interest, anxiety, and satisfaction. 

Pembroke, March, 1, 1824. 



CONTENTS. 



Letter from Ely S. Parker, Do-ne-ho-ga'-weh, a Seneca sachem, . 29 
Vowel Sounds, 31 

CHAPTER I. 

Parentage of Mary Jemison — Born on the sea — Lands, with her 
parents, in Philadelphia, in 1743 — Settles on Marsh creek, in 
Western Pennsylvania — Indian alarms — Her childhood and 
education, 33 

CHAPTER II. 

Fancied omen — Inroad of a band of Shawnees — Whole family taken 
captive in 1755 — Marched into the wilderness — Her mother's 
farewell address — Murder of her father, mother, two brothers, 
and sister — Preparation of scalps — Indian caution, to prevent 
pursuit — Arrival at Port Du Quesne, 40 

chaptee in. 

Mary is given to two Seneca women — They descend the Ohio — 
Arrival at She-nan-jee — She is dressed in Indian costume — 
Adopted as a Seneca — Ceremony of Adoption — Is named Deh- 
he-wa-mis — Nearly regains her liberty — Removal to Wi-ish-to — 
She is married to She-nin-jee, a Delaware — Birth and death of a 
child — Birth of another child, 52 

CHAPTER IV. 

Yisits Fort Pitt — Desire for liberty subsides — Labors of the Indian 
females — Removal from Wi-ish-to to the Genesee — Meet Shawnees 
who had murdered two white men, and were torturing a third — 
He is rescued by Mary — Arrive at Little Beard's Town, . . .69 



26 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 

Geographical names — Dialects of the Iroquois — Little Beard's Town — 
The Genesee Valley — Land slide — Gardeau Flats — Subsequently 
Mary Jemison Reservation — Mount Morris — Big Tree Village — 
Caneadea, 81 

CHAPTER VI. 

Indians march to fight the British — Return with cattle and prison- 
ers — Two prisoners burned — An Indian woman's eloquence — 
Tragedy of the " Devil's Hole " — Death of She-nan-jee — Attempt 
to take Mary to Niagara by force — She marries Hi-ok-a-too — Her 
children — Loss of a daughter, 98 



CHAPTER VII. 

Peace among the Indians — Their happy state — Troubles between Eng- 
land and the Colonies — Treaty with the Colonies — Iroquois agree 
to remain neutral — Treaty with the British — Join them against 
the Americans — Bounty for scalps — Four female prisoners — 
Battle of Fort Stanwix — Indian loss — Butler and Brandt, * 108 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Approach of General Sullivan's army — A skirmish — Two Oneida 
Indians taken — -One sacrificed — Lieutenants Boyd and Parker 
captured — Boyd's barbarous execution — Parker's death — Senecas 
retreat to the woods — Sullivan's army lays waste the country — 
Army retires — Senecas return, but to disperse — Mary goes to 
Gardeau .Flats— Expedition to the Mohawk — Cornplanter and John 
O'Bail — Ebenezer Allen, 118 

CHAPTER IX. 

Mary is offered her freedom — She declines accepting — Her reasons — 
Her favorite Indian brother dies — Great council at Big Tree, in 
17-97 — Gardeau reservation given to Mary by the chiefs — Con- 
tained 17,927 acres of land — Traditions of the Senecas — The 
Great Serpent at Nan-de-wa-o, 130 



CONTENTS. 27 



CHAPTER X. 

Little Beard's death — Singular superstition — Family government — - 
Her sons Thomas and John quarrel — John murders Thomas — 
John is tried and acquitted by the chiefs — Thomas' character — 
Hi3 wife and children — Death of Hi-ok-a-too — His age and 
funeral — His character, 189 

CHAPTER XL 

Mary's family troubles continue — John's enmity toward his brother 
Jesse — They quarrel — Whisky the cause — John murders 
Jesse — Jesse's funeral and character, 152 

CHAPTER XII. 

Mary's pretended cousin, George Jemison — His poverty — Her kind- 
ness and assistance — His ingratitude — Attempt to defraud her of 
a part of her reservation — Is expelled from the premises, . 158 

CHAPTER XIII. 

John Jemison murdered — His funeral, life, and character — His widow 
and children — His murderers flee — Tall Chief's speech — They 
return — Their fate, 164 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Mary sells part of her reservation — The hardships of her life — Great 
strength of constitution — Her temperance — Destructive effects 
of ardent spirits among the Senecas — Witchcraft — Accusations 
against her — Executions for witchcraft — Her descendants, . 175 

CHAPTER XV. 

Life of Hi-ok-a-too, half-brother of Farmer's Brother — Naturally cru- 
el — Inroad upon the Catawbas in Tennessee — Present at Brad- 
dock's defeat — Battle of Fort Freeland — Expedition to Cherry 
Valley — His barbarity — Battle at Upper Sandusky — Colonel 
Crawford taken, and burned at the stake — Dr. Knight's escape — 
Hi-ok-a-too leads a war-party against the Cherokees — His personal 
appearance — Dies of old age, 185 



28 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Ebenezer Allen — The belt of wampum — He lives at Mary's house — 
Marries a squaw — Taken by the Indians — Escapes and secretes 
himself — Fed by Mary — Taken again, tried, and acquitted — 
Builds a great mill at Rochester — Marries a white woman — Re- 
moves to Allen's creek — Marries a third wife — Removes to Cana- 
da with two wives — Abandons the first — His death, . . . 201 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Government of the Iroquois — Civil and Military Chiefs — Counsel- 
ors — Religious Beliefs — The Great Spirit — The Evil Spirit — 
Religious festivals — Sacrifice of the White Dog — The Dance — 
Marriage Customs — Chastity of the Indian — Polygamy, . 216 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Life of Mary continued — Seneca Reservations sold in 1825 — Is left 
among the whites — Discontented — Sold her remaining reserva- 
tion, and removed to Buffalo creek — Professes Christianity — Her 
death — Is buried near the Mission church — Description of her 
tombstone . — Her descendants, 236 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Confederacy of the Iroquois — Extent of their possessions — Red 
Jacket — Sales of reservations — Ogden Land Company — Govern- 
ment policy of removal west of the Mississippi — The ultimate ex- 
tinction of the Red race, 244 

CONCLUDING NOTE. 

Future destiny of the Indian — His reclamation — Schools of the 
missionaries — The Christian party — Schools of the state — Future 
citizenship — Their indebtedness to missionaries — Rights of pro- 
perty—Injustice of neglect — System of superintendence — Duty 
of the American people — The Indian Department, . . . 251 

APPENDIX. 

1. Tragedy of the Devil's Hole, 273 

2. General Sullivan's Expedition to Western New York, . . . 278 

3. Removal of the Remains of Boyd, 291 

4. The Genesee country as it was and is, 293 

6. Indian Geographical Names, 300 



LETTER FROM ELY S. PARKER, 

Do-NE-HO-GA-WEH, A SENECA SACHEM. 



Norfolk, Mch. 2±th, 1356. 
D. M. Dewey, Esq., 

Dear Sir : 
Yours of the 12th is received, and I am very 
happy to know that you are republishing the Life of 
Mary Jemison, the "White Woman." 

Many years ago, I perused Seaver's book vrith 
great interest, and have since had good opportunity of 
testing its reliability, by comparing it vdth the traditional 
history preserved of her among the Indians vrith vrhom 
she lived and died, all of which more than corroborates 
every incident related in the narrative. I have, therefore, 
every reason to believe it to be entirely true. 
I a 7n, with respect, 

Yours truly, 

E. S. PARKER, 

Do-ne-ho'-ga-weh. 



VOWEL SOUNDS. 



a , .asm arm. 

a as in at. 

a as in ale. 

S as in met. 

as in tone. 



LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Parentage of Mary Jemison — Born on the Sea — Lands, with her 
parents, in Philadelphia, in 1743 — Settles in Marsh Creek, in West- 
ern Pennsylvania — Indian alarms — Her childhood and edu- 
cation. 

Although I may have frequently heard the history of 
my ancestry, my recollection is too imperfect to enable 
me to trace it further back than to my father and mother, 
whom I have often heard mention the families from 
whence they originated, as having possessed wealth, and 
honorable stations under the government of the country 
in which they resided. 

On account of the great length of time that has elapsed 
since I was separated from my parents and friends, and 
having heard the story of their nativity only in the days 
of my childhood, I am unable to state positively which of 
the two countries, Ireland or Scotland, was the land of my 
parents' birth and education. It, however, is my impres- 
sion, that they were born and brought up in Ireland. 



34 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

My father's name was Thomas Jemison, and my 
mother's, before her marriage, was Jane Erwin. Their af- 
fection for each other was mutual, and of that happy kind 
which tends directly to sweeten the cup of life ; to render 
connubial sorrows lighter; to assuage every discontent- 
ment; and to promote not only their own comfort, but that 
of all who come within the circle of their acquaintance. Of 
their happiness, I recollect to have heard them often speak ; . 
and the remembrance I yet retain of their mildness and 
perfect agreement in the government of their children, to- 
gether with their mutual attention to our common edu- 
cation, manners, religious instruction and wants, renders 
it certain in my mind that they were ornaments to the 
married state, and examples of connubial love worthy of 
imitation. After my remembrance, they were strict ob- 
servers of religious duties ; for it was the daily practice 
of my father, morning and evening, to attend, in his 
family, to the worship of God. 

Resolved to leave the land of their nativity, they re- 
moved from their residence to a port in Ireland, where 
they lived but a short time before they set sail for this 
country, in the year 1742 or 1743, on board the ship Wil- 
liam and Mary, bound to Philadelphia. 

The intestine divisions, civil wars, and ecclesiastical 
rigidity and domination that prevailed in those days, 
were the causes of their leaving their mother country, to 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 35 

find a home in the American wilderness, under the mild 
and temperate government of the descendants of William 
Penn ; where they might worship God according to the 
dictates of their own consciences, and pursue their lawful 
avocations without fear of molestation. 

In Europe, my parents had two sons and one daughter ; 
their names were John, Thomas, and Betsey; with whom, 
after having put their effects on board, they embarked, 
leaving a large connection of relatives and friends, under 
all those painful sensations which are only felt when 
kindred souls give the parting hand and last farewell to 
those to whom they are endeared by every friendly tie. 

During their voyage I was born — to be the sport of 
fortune and almost an outcast to civil society ; to stem 
the current of adversity through a long chain of vicissi- 
tudes, unsupported by the advice of tender parents, or 
the hand of an affectionate friend ; and even without the 
enjoyment, from others, of any of those tender sympathies 
which are calculated to sweeten the joys of life, except 
such as naturally flow from uncultivated minds, that have 
been rendered callous by ferocity. 

Excepting my birth, nothing remarkable occurred to 

•iiy parents on their passage ; and they were safely landed 

at Philadelphia. My father being fond of rural life, 

and having been bred to agricultural pursuits, soon left 

the city, and removed his family to a tract of excellent 
3 B* 



36 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

land lying on Marsh Creek, on the frontier settlement of 
Pennsylvania. At that place, he cleared a large farm; 
and for seven or eight years enjoyed the fruits of his 
industry. Peace attended their labors; and they had 
nothing to alarm them, save the midnight howl of the 
prowling wolf, or the terrifying shriek of the ferocious 
panther, as they occasionally visited the improvements 
to take a lamb or a calf to satisfy their hunger. 

During this period my mother had two sons, between 
whose ages there was a difference of about three years. 
The oldest was named Matthew, and the other Robert. 

Health presided on every countenance, and vigor and 
strength characterized every exertion. Our mansion was 
a little paradise. The morning of my childish, happy 
days, will ever stand fresh in my memory, notwithstanding 
the many severe trials through which I have passed, in 
arriving at my present situation, at so advanced an age. 
Even at this remote period, the recollection of my 
pleasant home at my father's, of my parents, of my 
brothers and sister, and of the manner in which I was 
deprived of them all at once, affects me so powerfully 
that I am almost overwhelmed with grief that is seem- 
ingly insupportable. Frequently, I dream of those happy 
days : but alas ! they are gone ; they have left me to be 
carried through a long life, dependent for the little 
pleasures of nearly seventy years upon the tender mercies 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 37 

of .the Indians ! In the spring of 1752, and through the 
succeeding seasons, the stories of Indian barbarities 
inflicted upon the whites in those days frequently excited 
in my parents the most serious alarm for our safety. 

The next year, the storm gathered faster ; many mur- 
ders were committed ; and many captives were exposed 
to meet death in its most frightful form, by having their 
bodies stuck full of pine splinters, which were imme- 
diately set on fire, while their tormentors were exulting 
in their distress and rejoicing in their agony. 

In 1754, an army for the protection of the settlers, and 
to drive back the French and Indians, was raised from 
the militia of the colonial governments, and placed, sec- 
ondarily, under the command of Colonel George Wash- 
ington. In that army I had an uncle, whose name was 
John Jemison, who was killed at the battle of the Great 
Meadows, or Fort Necessity. His wife had died some 
time before this, and left a young child, which my mother 
nursed in the most tender manner, till its mother's sister 
took it away, a few months after my uncle's death. The 
French and Indians, after the surrender of Fort Necessity 
by Col. Washington, (which happened the same season, 
and soon after his victory over them at that place,) grew 
more and more terrible. The death of the whites, and 
the plundering and burning of their property, was appa- 
rently their only object. But as yet we had not heard 



38 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

the death-yell, nor seen the smoke of a dwelling that had 
been lit by an Indian's hand. 

The return of a new-year's day found us unmolested ; 
and though we knew that the enemy was at no great dis- 
tance from us, my father concluded that he would con- 
tinue to occupy his land another season, expecting, proba- 
bly from the great exertions which the government was 
then making, that as soon as the troops could commence 
their operations in the spring, the enemy would be con- 
quered, and compelled to agree to a treaty of peace. 

In the preceding autumn, my father either moved to 
another part of his farm, or to another neighborhood, a 
short distance from our former abode. I well recollect 
moving, and that the barn that was on the place we 
moved to was built of logs, though the house was a 
good one. 

The winter of 1754-5, was as mild as common fall 
seasons ; and spring presented a pleasant seedtime, and 
indicated a plenteous harvest. My father, with the 
assistance of his oldest sons, repaired his farm as usual, 
and was daily preparing the soil for the reception of seed. 
His cattle and sheep were numerous, and according to the 
best idea of wealth that I can now form, he was wealthy. 

But alas ! how transitory are all human affairs ! how 
fleeting are riches ! how brittle the invisible thread on 
which all earthly comforts are suspended! Peace in a 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 59 

moment can take an immeasurable flight ; health can 
lose its rosy cheeks ; and life will vanish like a vapor 
at the appearance of the sun ! In one fatal day, our 
prospects were all blasted ; and death, by cruel hands, 
inflicted upon almost the whole of the family. 

My education had received as much attention from my 
parents as their situation in a new country would admit. 
I had been at school some, where I learned to read 
in a book that was about half as large as a Bible ; and 
in the Bible I had read a little. I had also learned the 
Catechism, which I used frequently to repeat to my 
parents ; and every night, before I went to bed, I was 
obliged to stand up before my mother, and repeat some 
words that I suppose was a prayer. 
t My reading, catechism, and prayers, I have long since 
forgotten ; though, for a number of the first years that I 
lived with the Indians, 1 repeated the prayers as often 
as I had an opportunity. After the revolutionary war, I 
remembered the names of some of the letters when I saw 
them; but have never read a word since I was taken 
prisoner. It is but a few years since a missionary kindly 
gave me a Bible, which J am very fond of hearing my 
neighbors read to me, and should be pleased to learn to 
read it myself; but my sight for a number of years has 
been so dim that I have not been able to distinguish one 
letter from another. 



40 LIFE OF MART JEMTSON. 



OHAPTEE II. 

Fancied omen — Inroad of a band of Shawnees — Whole family taken 
captive in 1755 — Marched into the wilderness — Her mother's 
farewell address — Murder of her father, mother, two brothers, 
and sister — Preparation of scalps — Indian caution, to prevent 
pursuit — Arrival at Fort Du Quesne. 

On a pleasant day in the spring of 1755, when my fa- 
ther was sowing flax-seed, and my brothers driving the 
teams, I was sent to a neighbor's house, a distance of per- 
haps a mile, to procure a horse, and return with it the 
next morning. I went as I was directed. I went out 
of the house to which I had been sent in the beginning of 
the evening, and saw a sheet, wide spread, approaching to- 
ward me, in which I was caught, as I have ever since be- 
lieved, and deprived of my senses. The family soon found 
me on the ground, almost lifeless, as they said ; took me 
in, and made use of every remedy in their power for my 
recovery; but without effect, till daybreak, when my 
senses returned, and I soon found myself in good health, 
so that I went home with the horse very early in 
the morning, 

The appearance of that sheet I have ever considered as 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 41 

a forerunner of the melancholy catastrophe that so soon 
afterward happened to our family ; and my being caught 
in it, I believe, was ominous of my preservation from 
death at the time we were captured. 

As I before observed, I got home with my horse very 
early in the morning, where I found a man who lived in 
our neighborhood, and his sister-in-law who had three 
children, one son and two daughters. I soon learned that 
they had come there to live a short time ; but for what 
purpose I can not say. The woman's husband, however, 
was at that time in Washington's army, fighting for his 
country ; and as her brother-in-law had a house, she had 
lived with him in his absence. Their names I have for- 
gotten. Immediately after I got home, the man took the 
horse to go to his own house after a bag of grain, and 
took his gun in his hand for the purpose of killing some 
game, if he should chance to see any. Our family, as 
usual, were busily employed about their common business. 
Father was shaving an ax-helve at the side of the house ; 
mother was making preparations for breakfast; my two 
oldest brothers were at work near the barn; and the little 
ones, with myself, and the woman and her three children, 
were in the house. 

Breakfast was not yet ready, when we were alarmed by 
the discharge of a number of guns, that seemed to be 
near. Mother and the woman before mentioned almost 



42 LIFE OF MARY JEMISOK. 

fainted at the report, and every one trembled with fear. 
On opening the door, the man and horse lay dead near 
the house, having just been shot by the Indians. 

I was afterward informed, that the Indians discovered 
him at his own house with his gun, and pursued him to 
father's, where they shot him as I have related. They 
first secured my father, and then rushed into the house, 
and without the least resistance made prisoners of my 
mother, brothers, and sister, the woman, her three children, 
and myself; and then commenced plundering. 

My two brothers, Thomas and John, being at the barn, 
escaped and went to Virginia, where my grandfather Er- 
win then lived, as I was informed by a Mr. Fields, who 
was at my house about the close of the revolutionary war. 

The party that took us consisted of six Indians and 
four Frenchmen, who immediately commenced plundering, 
as I just observed, and took what they considered most 
valuable ; consisting principally of bread, meal, and meat. 
Having taken as much provision as they could carry, 
they set out with their prisoners in great haste, for fear 
of detection, and soon entered the woods.* On our march 
that day, an Indian went behind us with a whip, with 
which he frequently lashed the children, to make them 
keep up. In this manner we traveled till dark, without a 

* As Mary was born in the year 1742 or 174-3, and was taken cap- 
tive in 1755, she was at this time about thirteen years of age. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 43 

mouthful of food or a drop of water, although we had 
not eaten since the night before. Whenever the little 
children cried for water, the Indians would make them 
drink urine, or go thirsty. At night they encamped in 
the woods, without fire and without shelter, where we 
were watched with the greatest vigilance. Extremely 
fatigued, and very hungry, we were compelled to lie upon 
the ground, without supper or a drop of water to satisfy 
the cravings of our appetites. As in the day time, so the 
little ones were made to drink urine in the night, if they 
cried for water. Fatigue alone brought us a little sleep 
for the refreshment of our weary limbs ; and at the dawn 
of day we were again started on our march, in the same 
order that we had proceeded the day before. About sun- 
rise we were halted, and the Indians gave us a full 
breakfast of provision that they had brought from my 
father's house. Each of us, being very hungry, partook 
of this bounty of the Indians, except father, who was so 
much overcome with his situation, so much exhausted by 
anxiety and grief, that silent despair seemed fastened 
upon his countenance, and he could not be prevailed upon 
to refresh his sinking nature by the use of a morsel of 
food. Our repast being finished, we again resumed our 
march ; and before noon passed a small fort, that I heard 
my father say was called Fort Canagojigge. 



44 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

That was the only time that I heard hirn speak from 
the time we were taken till we were finally separated the 
following night. 

Toward evening, we arrived at the border of a dark and 
dismal swamp, which was covered with small hemlocks 
or some other evergreen, and various kinds of bushes, into 
which we were conducted ; and having gone a short dis- 
tance, we stopped to encamp for the night. 

Here we had some bread and meat for supper; but the 
dreariness of our situation, together with the uncertainty 
under which we all labored, as to our future destiny, 
almost deprived us of the sense of hunger, and destroyed 
our relish for food. 

Mother, from the time we were taken, had manifested 
a great degree of fortitude, and encouraged us to support 
our troubles without complaining; and by her conver- 
sation, seemed to make the distance and time shorter, and 
the way more smooth. But father lost all his ambition 
in the beginning of our trouble, and continued apparently 
lost to every care — absorbed in melancholy. Here, as 
before, she insisted on the necessity of our eating; and 
we obeyed her, but it was done with heavy hearts. 

As soon as I had finished my supper, an Indian took 
off my shoes and stockings, and put a pair of moccasins 
on my feet, which my mother observed; and believing 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 45 

that they would spare my life, even if they should destroy 
the other captives, addressed me, as near as I can remem- 
ber, in the following words : 

"My dear little Mary, I fear that the time has arrived 
when we must be parted for ever. Your life, my child, 
I think will be spared : but vre shall probably be toma- 
hawked here in this lonesome place by the Indians. Oh ! 
how can I part with you, my darling? What will 
become of my sweet little Mary? Oh! how can I think of 
your being continued in captivity, without a hope of your 
being rescued ? Oh ! that death had snatched you from 
my embraces in your infancy : the pain of parting then 
would have been pleasing to what it now is; and I 
should have seen the end of your troubles ! Alas, my 
dear ! my heart bleeds at the thought of what awaits you ; 
but, if you leave us, remember, my child, your own name, 
and the names of your father and mother. Be careful 
and not forget your English tongue. If you shall have 
an opportunity to get away from the Indians don't try 
to escape ; for if you do they will find and destroy you. 
Do n't forget, my little daughter, the prayers that I have 
learned you — say them often : be a good child, and God 
will bless you ! May God bless you, my child, and make 
you comfortable and happy." 

During this time, the Indians stripped the shoes and 
stockings from the little boy that belonged to the woman 



46 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 

who was taken with us, and put moccasins on his feet, as 
they had done before on mine. I was crying. An Indian 
took the little boy and myself by the hand, to lead us off 
from the company, when my mother exclaimed, " Do n't 
cry, Mary ! — don't cry, my child ! God will bless you ! 
Farewell — farewell ! " 

The Indian led us some distance into the bushes or 
woods, and there lay down with us to spend the night. 
The recollection of parting with my tender mother kept 
me awake, while the tears constantly flowed from my 
eyes. A number of times in the night, the little boy 
begged of me earnestly to run away with him, and get 
clear of the Indians ; but remembering the advice I had 
so lately received, and knowing the dangers to which we 
should be exposed, in traveling without a path and with- 
out a guide, through a wilderness unknown to us, I told 
him that I would not go, and persuaded h^m to lie still 
till morning. 

Early the next morning, the Indians and Frenchmen 
that we had left the night before came to us ; but our 
friends were left behind. It is impossible for any one to 
form a correct idea of what my feelings were at the sight 
of those savages, whom I supposed had murdered my 
parents and brothers, sister and friends, and left them 
in the swamp, to be devoured by wild beasts ! But what 
could I do ? A poor little defenseless girl ; without the 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 47 

power or means of escaping ; without a home to go to, 
even if I could be liberated ; without a knowledge of the 
direction or distance to my former place of residence; 
and without a living friend to whom to fly for protection, 
I felt a kind of horror, anxiety, and dread, that to me 
seemed insupportable. I durst not cry- — I durst not 
complain; and to inquire of them the fate of my friends, 
even if I could have mustered resolution, was beyond 
my ability, as I could not speak their language, nor 
they understand mine. My only relief was in silent, 
stifled sobs. 

My suspicions as to the fate of my parents proved too 
true ; for soon after I left them they were killed and 
scalped, together with Robert, Matthew, Betsey, and the 
woman and her two children, and mangled in the most 
shocking manner. 

Having given the little boy and myself some bread 
and meat for breakfast, they led us on as fast as we could 
travel, and one of them went behind with a long staff, 
poking up all the grass and weeds that we trailed down 
by going over them. By taking that precaution, they 
avoided detection ; for each weed was so nicely placed in 
its natural position, that no one would have suspected 
that we had passed that way. It is the custom of 
Indians, when scouting, or on private expeditions, to step 
carefully, and where no impression of their feet can be 



48 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

left — shunning wet or muddy ground. They seldom 
take hold of a bush or limb, and never break one ; and 
by observing these precautions, and that of setting up the 
weeds and grass which they necessarily lop, they com- 
pletely elude the sagacity of their pursuers, and escape 
that punishment which they are conscious they merit 
from the hand of justice. 

After a hard day's march we encamped in a thicket, 
where the Indians made a shelter of boughs, and then 
built a good fire to warm and dry our benumbed limbs 
and clothing; for it had rained some through the day. 
Here we were again fed as before. When the Indians 
had finished their supper, they took from their baggage 
a number of scalps, and went about preparing them for 
the market, or to keep without spoiling, by straining 
them over small hoops which they prepared for that 
purpose, and then drying and scraping them by the fire. 
Having put the scalps, yet wet and bloody, upon the 
hoops, and stretched them to their full extent, they held 
them to the fire till they were partly dried, and then, 
with their knives, commenced scraping off the flesh ; and 
in that way they continued to work, alternately drying 
and scraping them, till they were dry and clean. That 
being done, they combed the hair in the neatest manner, 
and then painted it and the edges of the scalps, yet on 
the hoops, red. Those scalps I knew at the time must 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 49 

have been taken from our family, by the color of the hair. 
My mother's hair was red ; and I could easily distinguish 
my father's and the children's from each other. That 
sight was most appalling ; yet I was obliged to endure it 
without complaining. In the course of the night, they 
made me to understand that they should not have killed 
the family, if the whites had not pursued them. 

Mr. Fields, whom I have before mentioned, informed 
me that, at the time we were taken, he lived in the vicin- 
ity of my father; and that, on hearing of our captivity, 
the whole neighborhood turned out in pursuit of the ene- 
my, and to deliver us, if possible ; but that their efforts 
were unavailing. They, however, pursued us to the dark 
swamp, where they found my father, his family, and com- 
panions, stripped, and mangled in the most inhuman man- 
ner : that from thence the march of the cruel monsters 
could not be traced in any direction; and that they re- 
turned to their homes with the melancholy tidings of 
our misfortunes, supposing we had all shared in the 
massacre. 

The next morning we pursued our journey, an Indian 
going behind us and setting up the weeds, as on -the day 
before. At night, we encamped on the ground in the 
open air, without a shelter or fire. 

In the morning we again set out early, and traveled 

as on the two former davs ; though the weather was 
3 



50 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

extremely uncomfortable, from the continual falling of 
rain and snow. 

At night the snow fell fast, and the Indians built a 
shelter of boughs, and kindled a fire, where we rested 
tolerably dry through that and the two succeeding nights. 

When we stopped, and before the fire was kindled, I 
was so much fatigued from running, and so far benumbed 
by the wet and cold, that I expected that I must fall and 
die before I could get warm and comfortable. The fire, 
however, soon restored the circulation of blood; and after 
I had taken my supper, I felt so that I rested well 
through the night. 

On account of the storm, we were two days at that 
place. On one of those days, a party consisting of six 
Indians, who had been to the frontier settlements, came 
to where we were, and brought with them one prisoner — 
a young white man, who was very tired and dejected. His 
name I have forgotten. 

Misery certainly loves company. I was extremely 
glad to see him, though I knew from his appearance that 
his situation was as deplorable as my own, and that he 
could afford me no kind of assistance. In the afternoon 
the Indians killed a deer, which they dressed, and then 
roasted whole ; which made them a full meal. We were 
each allowed a share of their venison, and some bread, so 
that we made a good meal also. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 51 

Having spent three nights and two days at that place, 
and the storm having ceased, early in the morning the 
whole company, consisting of twelve Indians, four French- 
men, the young man, the little boy, and myself, moved on 
at a moderate pace, without taking the previously-adopted 
precautions to obliterate or hide our trail. f 

In the afternoon we came in sight of Fort Du Quesne, 
(since Fort Pitt, now Pittsburg,) where we halted, while 
the Indians performed some ceremonies in conformity to 
their customs on such occasions. That fort was then 
occupied by the French and Indians. It stood at the 
junction of the Monongahela, (Falling-in-Banks,) and 
Alleghany rivers, where the Ohio Elver begins to take its 
name. The word O-hi-o signifies bloody.* 

At the place where we halted, the Indians combed the 
hair of the young man, the boy, and myself, and then 
painted our faces and hair red, in the finest Indian style. 
We were then conducted into the fort, where we received 
a little bread, and were then shut up in an uninhabited 
house, and left to tarry alone through the night. 

* O-hee-yo, the radix of the word Ohio, signifies the "Beautiful 
River ;" and the Iroquois, by conferring it upon the Alleghany, or head 
branch of the Ohio, have not only fixed a name from their language upon 
one of the great rivers of the Continent, but indirectly upon one of the 
noblest states of our Confederacy. — [League or the Iroquois, p. 436. 
4 C 



52 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER III. 

Mary is given to two Seneca women — They descend the Ohio — 
Arrival at She-nan-jee — She is dressed in Indian costume — 
Adopted as a Seneca — Ceremony of Adoption — Is named Deh- 
he-wa-mis — Nearly regains her liberty — Removal to Wi-ish-to — 
She is married to She-nin-jee, a Delaware — Birth and death of a 
child — Birth of another child. 

The night was spent in gloomy forebodings. What the 
result of our captivity would be, it was out of our power to 
determine, or even imagine. At times, we could almost 
realize the approach of our masters to butcher and scalp 
us ; again, we could nearly see the pile of wood kindled 
on which we were to be roasted; and then we would 
imagine ourselves at liberty, alone and defenseless in the 
forest, surrounded by wild beasts that were ready to de- 
vour us. The anxiety of our minds drove sleep from our 
eyelids; and it was with a dreadful hope and painful 
impatience that we waited for the morning to determine 
our fate. 

The morning at length arrived, and our masters came 
early and let us out of the house, and gave the young 
man and boy to the French, who immediately took them 




MARY BEING ARRAYED IN INDIAN COSTUME. 



DEH-IIE-WA-MIS* 55 

away. Their fate I never learned, as I have not seen 
nor heard of them since. 

I was now left alone in the fort, deprived of my former 
companions, and of every thing that was near or dear to 
me but life. But it was not long before I was in some 
measure relieved by the appearance of two pleasant- 
looking squaws, of the Seneca tribe, who came and 
examined me attentively for a short time, and then went 
out. After a few minutes' absence, they returned in com- 
pany with my former masters, who gave me to the squaws 
to dispose of as they pleased. 

The Indians by whom I was taken were a party of 
Shawnees,* if I remember right, that lived, when at 
home, a long distance down the Ohio. 

My former Indian masters and the two squaws were 
soon ready to leave the fort, and accordingly embarked — 
the Indians in a large canoe, and the two squaws and 
myself in a small one — and went down the Ohio. When 
we set off, an Indian in the forward canoe took the scalps 
of my former friends, strung them on a pole that he 

* The home country of the Shawnees, at the period of colonization 
by the Europeans, was in the western part of the present state of 
Kentucky. They are thus located by Albert Gallatin, on his map of 
the sites of the Indian tribes of the Continent, published in the second 
volume of the " Transactions of the American Ethnological Society." 
The name of this nation in the Seneca dialect of the Iroquois lan- 
guage is Sa-wa-7i6*o~no. — [En. 



56 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

placed upon his shoulder, and in that manner carried 
them, standing in the stern of the canoe directly before 
us, as we sailed down the river, to the town where the 
two squaws resided. 

On the way we passed a Shawnee town, where I saw 
a number of heads, arms, legs, and other fragments of the 
bodies of some white people who had just been burned. 
The parts that remained were hanging on a pole, which 
was supported at each end by a crotch stuck in the 
ground, and were roasted or burnt black as a coal. The 
fire was yet burning ; and the whole appearance afforded 
a spectacle so shocking that even to this day the blood 
almost curdles in my veins when I think of them. 

At night we . arrived at a small Seneca Indian town, 
at the mouth of a small river that was called by the 
Indians, in the Seneca language, She-nan-jee, about 
eighty miles by water from the fort, where the two 
squaws to whom I belonged resided. There we landed, 
and the Indians went on ; which was the last I ever saw 
of them. 

Having made fast to the shore, the squaws left me in 
the canoe while they went to their wigwam or house in 
the town, and returned with a suit of Indian clothing, all 
new, and very clean and nice. My clothes, though whole 
and good when I was taken, were now torn in pieces, so 
that I was almost naked. They first undressed me, and 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 57 

threw my rags into the river ; then washed me clean and 
dressed me in the new suit they had just brought, in 
complete Indian style ; and then led me home and seated 
me in the center of their wigwam. 

I had been in that situation but a few minutes before 
all the squaws in the town came in to see me. I was 
soon surrounded by them, and they immediately set up a 
most dismal howling, crying bitterly, and wringing their 
hands in all the agonies of grief for a deceased relative. 

Their tears flowed freely, and they exhibited all the 
signs of real mourning. At the commencement of this 
scene, one of their number began, in a voice somewhat 
between speaking and singing, to recite some words to 
the following purport, and continued the recitation till 
the ceremony was ended ; the company at the same time 
varying the appearance of their countenances, gestures, 
and tone of voice, so as to correspond with the senti- 
ments expressed by their leader. 

" Oh, our brother ! alas ! he is dead — he has gone ; he 
will never return ! Friendless, he died on the field of the 
slain, where his bones are yet lying unburied ! Oh ! who 
will not mourn his sad fate ? No tears dropped around 
him : oh, no ! No tears of his sisters were there ! He 
fell in his prime, when his arm was most needed to keep 
us from danger ! Alas ! he has gone, and left us in sor- 
row, his loss to bewail ! Oh, where is his spirit ? His 
3* 



68 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 

spirit went naked, and hungry it wanders, and thirsty 
and wounded, it groans to return ! Oh, helpless and 
wretched, our brother has gone ! No blanket nor food 
to nourish and warm him ; nor candles to light him, nor 
weapons of war ! Oh, none of those comforts had he ! 
But well we remember his deeds ! The deer he could 
take on the chase ! The panther shrunk back at the 
sight of his strength ! His enemies fell at his feet ! He 
was brave and courageous in war ! As the fawn, he was 
harmless ; his friendship was ardent ; his temper was 
gentle ; his pity was great ! Oh ! our friend, our com- 
panion, is dead ! Our brother, our brother ! alas, he is 
gone ! But why do we grieve for his loss ? In the 
strength of a warrior, undaunted he left us, to fight by 
the side of the chiefs ! His warwhoop was shrill ! His 
rifle well aimed laid his enemies low: his tomahawk 
drank of their blood : and his knife flayed their scalps 
while yet covered with gore ! And why do we mourn 1 
Though he fell on the field of the slain, with glory he fell ; 
and his spirit went up to the land of his fathers in war ! 
Then why do we mourn ? With transports of joy, they 
received him, and fed him, and clothed him, and welcomed 
him there ! Oh, friends, he is happy ; then dry up your 
tears ! His spirit has seen our distress, and sent us a 
helper whom with pleasure we greet. Deh-he-wa-mis has 
come : then let us receive her with joy ! — she is hand- 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 59 

some and pleasant ! Oh ! she is our sister, and gladly 

jre welcome her here. In the place of our brother she 

stands in our tribe. With care we will guard her from 

trouble ; and may she be happy till her spirit shall leave us." 

In the course of that ceremony, from mourning they 
became serene, — joy sparkled in their countenances, and 
they seemed to rejoice over me as over a long-lost child. 
I was made welcome among them as a sister to the two 
squaws before mentioned, and was called Deh-he-wa-mis ; 
which, being interpreted, signifies a pretty girl, a hand- 
some girl, or a pleasant, good thing. That is the name 
by which I have ever since been called by the Indians. 

I afterward learned that the ceremony I at that time 
passed through was that of adoption. The two squaws 
had lost a brother in Yrashington's war, sometime in the 
year before, and in consequence of his death went up to 
Fort Du Quesne on the day on which I arrived there, in 
order to receive a prisoner, or an enemy's scalp, to supply 
their loss. v Tt is a custom of the Indians, when one of 
their number is slain or taken prisoner in battle, to give 
to the nearest relative of the dead or absent a prisoner, 
if they have chanced to take one ; and if not, to give him 
the scalp of an enemy. On the return of the Indians 
from the conquest, which is always announced by peculiar 
shoutings, demonstrations of joy, and the exhibition of 
some trophy of victory, the mourners come forward and 



60 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

make their claims. If they receive a prisoner, it is at 
their option either to satiate their vengeance by taking 
his life in the most cruel manner they can conceive of, 
or to receive and adopt him 'into the- family, in the 
place of him whom they have lost.V All the prisoners 
that are taken in battle and carried to the encampment 
or town by the Indians are given to the bereaved families, 
till their number is good. And unless the mourners have 
but just received the news of their bereavement, and are 
under the operation of a paroxysm of grief, anger, or re- 
venge; or, unless the prisoner is very old, sickly, or 
homely, they generally save them, and treat them kindly. 
But if their mental wound is fresh, their loss so great 
that they deem it irreparable, or if their prisoner or pris- 
oners do not meet their approbation, no torture, let it be 
ever so cruel, seems sufficient to make them satisfaction. 
It is family and not national sacrifices among the In- 
dians, that has given them an indelible stamp as bar- 
barians, and identified their character with the idea 
which is generally formed of unfeeling ferocity and the 
most barbarous cruelty. 

It was my happy lot to be accepted for adoption. At 
the time of the ceremony I was received by the two 
squaws to supply the place of their brother in the family; 
and I was ever considered and treated by them as a real 
sister, the same as though I had been born of their mother. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 61 

During the ceremony of my adoption, I sat motionless, 
nearly terrified to death at the appearance and aotions of 
the company, expecting every moment to feel their ven- 
geance, and suffer death on the spot. I was, however, 
happily disappointed ; when at the close of the ceremony 
the company retired, and my sisters commenced employ- 
ing every means for my consolation and comfort.* 

*"The Iroquois never exchanged prisoners with Indian nations, 
nor ever sought to reclaim their own people from captivity among 
them. Adoption or the torture were the alternative chances of the 
captive. * * * A regular ceremony of adoption was performed 
in each case to complete the naturalization. With captives this cere- 
mony was the gauntlet, after which new names were assigned to them. 
Upon the return of a war party with captives, if they had lost any of 
their own number in the expedition, the families to which these be- 
longed were first allowed an opportunity to supply from the captives 
the places made vacant in their household. Any family could then 
adopt out of the residue any such as chanced to attract their favorable 
notice, or whom they wished to save. At the time appointed, the 
women and children of the village arranged themselves in two parallel 
rows just without the village, each one having a whip with which to 
lash the captives as they passed between the lines. The male cap- 
tives, who alone were required to undergo this test of their powers 
of endurance, were brought out, and each one was shown in turn the 
house in which he was to take refuge, and which was to be his future 
home if he passed successfully through the ordeal. They were then 
taken to the head of this long avenue of whips, and were compelled, 
one after another, to run through it for their lives, and for the enter- 
tainment of the surrounding throng, exposed at every step, unde- 
fended, and with naked backs, to the merciless infliction of the whip. 
Those who fell from exhaustion were immediatelv dispatched, as un« 

c* 



62 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

Being now settled and provided with a home, I was 
employed in nursing the children, and doing light work 
about the house. Occasionally, I was sent out with the 
Indian hunters, when they went but a Short distance, to 
help them carry their game. My situation was easy ; I 
had no particular hardships to endure. But still, the 
recollection of my parents, my brothers and sisters, my 
home, and my own captivity, destroyed my happiness, 
and made me constantly solitary, lonesome, and gloomy. 

My sisters would not allow me to speak English in 
their hearing ; but remembering the charge that my dear 
mother gave me at the time I left her, whenever I 
chanced to be alone I made a business of repeating my 
prayer, catechism, or something I had learned, in order 
that I might not forget my own language. By practicing 
in that way, I retained it till I came to Genesee flats, 
where I soon became acquainted with English people, 
with whom I have been almost daily in the habit of 
conversing. 

worthy to be saved ; but those who emerged in safety from this test 
of their physical energies were from that moment treated with the 
utmost affection and kindness. When the perils of the gauntlet were 
over, the captive ceased to be an enemy, and became an Iroquois. 
Not only so, but he was received into the family by which he was 
adopted, with all the cordiality of affection, and into all the relations 
of the one whose place he was henceforth to occupy." — League of 
the Iroquois, p. 342. \\ 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 63 

My sisters were very diligent in teaching me their 
language ; and to their great satisfaction, I soon learned 
so that I could understand it readily, and speak it 
fluently. I was very fortunate in falling into their 
hands ; for they were kind, good-natured women ; peace- 
able and mild in their dispositions ; temperate and decent 
in their habits, and very tender and gentle toward me. 
I have great reason to respect them, though they have 
been dead a great number of years. 

The town where they lived was pleasantly situated 
on the Ohio, at the mouth of the Shenanjee. The 
land produced good corn; the woods furnished plenty 
of game, and the waters abounded with fish. Another 
river emptied itself into the Ohio, directly opposite 
the mouth of the Shenanjee. We spent the summer 
at that place, where we planted, hoed, and harvested a 
large crop of corn, of excellent quality. 

About the time of our corn harvest, Fort Du Quesne 
was taken from the French by the English, and called 
Fort Pitt. 

The corn being harvested, the Indians took it on horses 
and in canoes, and with us proceeded down the Ohio, 
occasionally stopping to hunt a few days, till we arrived 
at the mouth of Sciota river ; where they established 
their winter quarters, and continued hunting till the 
ensuing spring, in the adjacent wilderness. While at 



64 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

that place, I went with the other children to assist the 
hunters to bring in their game. The forests on the 
Sciota were well stocked with elk, deer, and other large 
animals; and the marshes contained large numbers of 
beaver, muskrat, etc., which made excellent hunting for 
the Indians ; who depended, for their meat, upon their 
success in taking elk and deer ; and for ammunition and 
clothing, upon the beaver, muskrat, and other furs that 
they could take in addition to their peltry. 

The season for hunting being passed, we all returned 
in the spring to the mouth of the river Shenanjee, to 
the houses and fields we had left in the fall before. 
There we again planted our corn, squashes, and beans, on 
the fields that we occupied the preceding summer. 

About planting time, our Indians all went up to Fort 
Pitt, to make peace with the British, and took me with 
them. We landed on the opposite side of the river from 
the fort, and encamped for the night. Early the next 
morning the Indians took me over to the fort to see the 
white people who were there. It was then that my heart 
1 bounded to be liberated from the Indians and to be 
restored to my friends and my country. The white 
people were surprised to see me with the Indians, endur- 
ing the hardships of a savage life, at so early an age, and 
with so delicate a constitution as I appeared to possess. 
They asked me my name ; where and when I was taken, 



DEH-IIE-WA-MIS. 65 

and appeared very much interested on my behalf. They 
were continuing their inquiries, when my sisters became 
alarmed, and, believing I should be taken from them, 
hurried me into their canoe, and recrossed the river — 
took their bread out of the fire, and fled with me, without 
stopping, till they arrived at the river Shenanjee. So 
great was their fear of losing me, or of my being given 
up in the treaty, that they never once stopped rowing till 
they got home. 

Shortly after we left the shore opposite the fort, as I 
was informed by one of my Indian brothers, the white 
people came over to take me back ; but after considerable 
inquiry, and having made diligent search to find where I 
was hid, they returned with heavy hearts. Although I 
had then been with the Indians something over a year, 
and had become considerably habituated to their mode 
of living, and attached to my sisters, the sight of white 
people who could speak English inspired me with an un- 
speakable anxiety to go home with them, and share in 
the blessings of civilization. My sudden departure and 
escape from them seemed like a second captivity, and for 
a long time I brooded over the thoughts of my miserable 
situation with almost as much sorrow and dejection as I 
had done over those of my first sufferings. Time, the 
destroyer of every affection, wore away my unpleasant 



66 LIFE OP MARY JEMISOX. 

feelings, and I became as contented as before. "We tended 
our cornfields through the summer; and after we had 
harvested the crop, we again went down the river to the 
hunting-grounds on the Sciota, where we spent the 
winter, as we had done the winter before. 

Early in the spring, we sailed up the Ohio Eiver to a 
place that the Indians called Wi-ish-to, where one river 
emptied into the Ohio on one side, and another on the 
other, about eighty or ninety miles above the mouth of 
the Sciota. At that place the Indians built a town, and 
we planted corn. 

We lived three summers at Wiishto, and spent each 
winter on the Sciota. 

The first summer of our living at Wiishto, a party 
of Delaware Indians came up the river, took up their 
residence, and lived in common with us. They brought 
five white prisoners with them, who, by their conversa- 
tion, made my situation much more agreeable, as they 
could all speak English. I have forgotten the names of 
all of them except one, which was Priscilla Ramsay. 
She was a very handsome, good-natured girl, and was 
married soon after she came to Wiishto, to Captain 
Little Billy's uncle, who went with her on a visit to her 
friends in the States. Having tarried with them as long 
as she wished to, she returned with her husband to Can- 
a-ah-tua, where he died. She, after his death, married a 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS 67 

white man by the name of Nettles, and now lives with 
him, if she is living, on Grand River, Upper Canada. 

Not long after the Delawares came to live with us at 
Wiishto, my sisters told me that I must go and live with 
one of them, whose name was She-nin-jee. Not daring 
to cross them or disobey their commands, with a great 
degree of reluctance I went ; and Sheninjee and I were 
married according to Indian custom. 

Sheninjee was a noble man — large in stature, elegant 
in his appearance, generous in his conduct, courteous in 
war, a friend to peace, and a lover of justice. He sup- 
ported a degree of dignity far above his rank, and merited 
and received the confidence and friendship of all the 
tribes with whom he was acquainted. Yet, SheniDJee 
was an Indian. The idea of my spending my days with 
him at first seemed perfectly irreconcilable to my feelings ; 
but his good nature, generosity, tenderness, and friendship 
toward me, soon gained my affection ; and, strange as it 
may seem, I loved him ! To me he was ever kind in 
sickness, and always treated me with gentleness ; in fact, 
he was an agreeable husband and a comfortable compan- 
ion. We lived happily together till the time of our final 
separation, which happened two or three years after our 
marriage. 

In the second summer of my living at Wiishto, I had 
a child, at the time that the kernels of corn first appeared 



68 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

on the cob. When I was taken sick, Sheninjee was ab- 
sent, and I was sent to a small shed on the bank of the 
river, which was made of boughs, where I was obliged to 
stay till my husband returned. My two sisters, who were 
my only companions, attended me ; and on the second day 
of my confinement my child was born ; but it lived only 
two days. It was a girl ; and notwithstanding the short- 
ness of the time that I possessed it, it was a great grief 
to me to lose it. 

After the birth of my child I was very sick, but was 
not allowed to go into the house for two weeks ; when, to 
my great joy, Sheninjee returned, and I was taken in, and 
as comfortably provided for as our situation would admit. 
My disease continued to increase for a number of days; 
and I became so far reduced that my recovery was de- 
spaired of by my friends, and I concluded that my troubles 
would soon be finished. At length, however, my com- 
plaint took a favorable turn, and by the time the corn was 
ripe I was able to get about. I continued to gain my 
health, and in the fall was able to go to our winter quar- 
ters, on the Saratoga, with the Indians. 

From that time nothing remarkable occurred to me till 
the fourth winter of my captivity, when I had a son born, 
while I was at Sciota. I. had a quick recovery, and my 
child was healthy. To commemorate the name of my 
much-lamented father, I called my son Thomas Jemison. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 69 



CHAPTER IV. 

Visits Fort Pitt — Desire for liberty subsides — Labors of the Indian 
females — Removal from Wi-ish-to to the Genesee — Meet Shawnees 
who had murdered two white men, and were torturing a third — 
He is rescued by Mary — Arrive at Little Beard's Town. 

In the spring, when Thomas was three or four moons 
(months) old, we returned from Sciota to Wiishto, and 
soon after set out to go to Fort Pitt, to dispose of our 
furs and skins that we had taken in the winter, and pro- 
cure some necessary articles for the use of our family. 

I had then been with the Indians four summers and 

four winters, and had become so far accustomed to their 

mode of living, habits, and dispositions, that my anxiety to 

get away, to be set at liberty and leave them, had almost 

subsided. With them was my home ; my family was 

there, and there I had many friends to whom I was 

warmly attached in consideration of the favors, affection, 

and friendship with which they had uniformily treated 

me from the time of my adoption. Our labor was not 

severe ; and that of one year was exactly similar in almost 

every respect to that of the others, without that endless 

variety that is to be observed in the common labor of the 
5 



70 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

white people. Notwithstanding the Indian women have 
all the fuel and bread to procure, and the cooking to 
perform, their task is probably not harder than that 
of white women, who have those articles provided for 
them; and their cares certainly are not half as numerous, 
nor as great. In the summer season, we planted, tended, 
and harvested our corn( and generally had all our children 
with us; but had no master to oversee or drive us, so 
that we could work as leisurely as we pleased. We had 
no plows on the Ohio, but performed the whole process 
of planting and hoeing with a small tool that resem- 
Med, in some respects, a hoe with a very short handle. \\ 

We pursued our farming business according to the gen- 
eral custom of Indian women, which is as follows : In 
order to expedite their business, and at the same time 
enjoy each other's company, they all work together in one 
field, or at whatever job they may have on hand. In the 
spring, they choose an old active squaw to be their driver 
and overseer, when at labor, for the ensuing year. She 
accepts the honor, and they consider themselves bound to 
obey her. 

When the time for planting arrives, and the soil is pre- 
pared, the squaws are assembled in the morning, and con- 
ducted into a field, where each plants one row. They 
then go into the next field and plant once across, and so 
on till they have gone through the tribe. If any remains 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 7 j 

to be planted, they again commence where they did at 
first, (in the same field,) and so keep on till the whole is 
finished. By this rule, they perform their labor of every 
kind, and every jealousy of one having done more or less 
than another is effectually avoided. 

Each squaw cuts her own wood ; but it is all brought 
to the house under the direction of the overseer. 

Their method of computing time was by moons and 
winters : a moon is a month ; and the time from the end 
of one winter to that of another, a year. 

From sunset till sunrise, they say that the sun is asleep. 
In the old of the moon, when it does not shine in the 
night, they say it is dead. They rejoice greatly at the 
sight of the new moon. 

In order to commemorate great events, and preserve 
the chronology of them, the war chief in each tribe keeps 
a war-post. This post is a peeled stick of timber ten or 
twelve feet high, that is erected in the town. For a cam- 
paign, they make, or rather the chief makes, a perpen- 
dicular red mark, about three inches long and half an inch 
wide; on the opposite side from this, for a scalp, they 
make a red cross, thus, + ; on another side, for a prisoner 
taken alive, they make a red cross in this manner, X, with 
a head, or dot ; and by placing such significant hiero- 
glyphics in so conspicuous a situation, they are enabled 



72 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

to ascertain with great certainty the time and circum- 
stances of past events. 

Hiokatoo had a war-post, on which was recorded his 
military exploits, and other things that he thought worth 
preserving. 

^ Our cooking consisted in pounding our corn into samp 
or hominy, boiling the hominy, making now and then a 
cake and baking it in the ashes, and in boiling or roasting 
our venison. As our cooking and eating utensils consisted 
of a hominy block and pestle, a small kettle, a knife or 
two, and a few vessels of bark or wood, it required but 
little time to keep them in order for use. \ y 

Spinning, weaving, sewing, stocking knitting, and the 
like, are arts which have never been practiced in the Indian 
tribes generally. After the revolutionary war, I learned 
to sew, so that I could make my own clothing after a 
poor fashion ; but I have been wholly ignorant of the appli- 
cation of the other domestic arts since my captivity. In the 
season of hunting, it was our business, in addition to our 
cooking, to bring home the game that was taken by the In- 
l dians, dress it, and carefully preserve the eatable meat, and 
prepare or dress the skins.'; Our clothing was fastened to- 
gether with strings of deerskin, and tied on with the same. x \ 

In that manner we lived, without any of those jealousies, 
quarrels, and revengeful battles between families and indi- 



DEH-HE-WA-MS. 73 

viduals, which have been common in the Indian tribes 
since the introduction of ardent spirits among them. 

The use of ardent spirits among the Indians, and a 
majority of the attempts which have been made to civilize 
them by the white people, have constantly made them 
worse and worse ; increased their vices, and robbed them 
of many of their virtues, and will ultimately produce their 
extermination. I have seen, in a number of instances, 
the effects of education upon some of our Indians, who 
were taken, when young, from their families, and placed 
at school before they had had an opportunity to contract 
many Indian habits, and there kept till they arrived to 
manhood; 'but I have never seen one of those but was 
an Indian in every respect after he returned. Indians 
must and will be Indians, in spite of all the means that 
can be used to instruct them in the arts and sciences. 

One thing only marred my happiness while I lived with 
them on the Ohio, and that was the recollection that I 
once had tender parents, and a home that I loved. 
Aside from that recollection, which could not have existed 
had I been taken in my infancy, I should have been con- 
tented in my situation. Notwithstanding all that has 
been said against the Indians, in consequence of their 
cruelties to their enemies — cruelties that I have witnessed 
and had abundant proof of— it is a fact that they are 

naturally kind, tender, and peaceable toward their friends, 
4 



74 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

and strictly honest ; and that those cruelties have been 
practiced only upon their enemies, according to their idea 
of justice. 

At the time we left Wiishto, it was impossible for me 
to suppress a sigh on parting with those who had truly 
been my friends — with those whom I had every rea- 
son to respect. On account of a part of our family 
living at Genishau, or Genesee, we thought it doubtful 
whether we should return directly from Fort Pitt, or go 
from thence on a visit to see them. 

Our company consisted of my husband, my two Indian 
brothers, my little son, and myself. We embarked in a 
canoe that was large enough to contain ourselves and our 
effects, and proceeded up the river. 

Nothing remarkable occurred to us on our way, till we 
arrived at the mouth of a creek which Sheninjee and my 
brothers said was the outlet of Sandusky Lake; where, as 
they said, two or three English traders in fur and skins 
had kept a trading-house but a short time before, though 
they were then absent. We had passed the trading-house 
but a short distance when we met three white men float- 
ing down the river, with the appearance of having been 
recently murdered by the Indians. We supposed them 
to be the bodies of the traders whose stores we had passed 
the same day. Sheninjee being alarmed for fear of being 
apprehended as one of the murderers, if he should go on, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 75 

resolved to put about immediately; and we accordingly 
returned to where the traders had lived, and there landed. 

At the trading-house we found a party of Shawnee In- 
dians, who had taken a young white man prisoner, and 
had just begun to torture him, for the sole purpose of 
gratifying their curiosity in exulting at his distress. They 
at first made him stand up, while they slowly pared his 
ears, and split them into strings. They then made a 
number of slight incisions in his face, and bound him on 
the ground, rolled him in the dirt, and rubbed it in his 
wounds ; some of them at the same time whipping him 
with small rods. The poor fellow cried for mercy, and 
yelled most piteously. 

The sight of his distress seemed too much for me to 
endure. I begged of them to desist — I entreated them, 
with tears, to release him. At length they regarded my 
intercessions, and set him at liberty. He was shockingly 
disfigured, bled profusely, and appeared to be in great pain ; 
but as soon as he was liberated, he made off in haste, 
which was the last I saw of him. 

We soon learned that the same party of Shawnees had, 
but a few hours before, massacred the three white traders 
whom we saw on the river, and had plundered their store. 
We, however, were not molested by them ; and, after a 
short stay at that place, moved up the creek about forty 
miles to a Shawnee town, which the Indians called Gaw- 



76 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

gush-shaw-ga,* (which, being interpreted, signifies a mask 
or a false face.) The creek that we went up was called 
Candusky. It was now summer ; and having tarried a 
few days at Gawgushshawga, we moved on up the creek 
to a place that was called Yish-kah-wa-na, (meaning, in 
English, open mouth.) 

As I have before observed, the family to which I be- 
longed was part of a tribe of Seneca Indians, who lived 
at that time at a place called Genishau, from the name of 
the tribe that was situated on a river of the same name, 
which is now called Genesee. The word Genishau signi- 
fies a shining, clear, or open place.f Those of us who 
lived on the Ohio had frequently received invitations from 
those at Genishau, by one of my brothers who usually 
went and returned every season, to come and live with 
them ; and my two sisters had been gone almost two years. 

While we were at Yishkahwana, my brother arrived 
there from Genishau, and insisted so strenuously upon our 
going home with him that my two brothers concluded to 
go, and to take me with them. 

* Ga-gb-sa, in the Seneca dialect, signifies " a false face," and Ga- 
go-sa-ga "the place of the false face," which is doubtless the correct 
orthography of this word. — [Ed. 

f Gen-nis'-he-yo is the true spelling. It signifies "the beautiful 
valley," from which the river takes its name. The adjective we-yo y 
which means "grand," or "beautiful," is incorporated in the word, 
and thus determines its signification. — [En. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 77 

By this time the summer was gone, and the time for 
harvesting corn had arrived. My brothers, for fear of the 
rainy season setting in early, thought it best to set out 
immediately, that we might have good traveling. She- 
Dinjee consented to have me go with my brothers ; but 
concluded to go down the river himself, with some fur 
and skins which he had on hand, spend the winter hunting 
with his friends, and come to me in the spring following. 

That was accordingly agreed upon, and Sheninjee set 
out for Wiishto ; and my three brothers and myself, with 
my little son on my back, at the same time set out for 
Genishau. "We came on to Upper Sandusky, to an Indian 
town which we found deserted by its inhabitants, in con- 
sequence of their having recently murdered some English 
traders, who resided among them. That town was owned 
and had been occupied by Delaware Indians, who, when 
they left it, buried their provisions in the earth, in order 
to prevent their enemies enjoying them, or to have a 
supply for themselves if they should chance to return. 
My brothers understood the customs of the Indians when 
they were obliged to fly from their enemies ; and, suspect- 
ing that their corn, at least, must have been hid, made 
diligent search, and at length found a large quantity of it, 
together with beans, sugar, and honey, so carefully buried 
that it was completely dry, and as good as when they 

left it. As our stock of provisions was scanty, we con- 

D 



78 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

sidered ourselves extremely fortunate in finding so season- 
able a supply with so little trouble. Having caught two 
or three horses that we found there, and furnished our- 
selves with a good store of food, we traveled on till we 
came to the mouth of French creek, where we hunted 
two days, and from thence came on to Connewango 
creek, where we stayed eight or ten days, in consequence 
of our horses having left us and strayed into the woods. 
The horses, however, were found ; and we again prepared 
to resume our journey. During our stay at that place 
the rain fell fast, and had raised the creek to such a hight 
that it was seemingly impossible for us to cross it. A 
number of times we ventured in, but were compelled to 
return, barely escaping with our lives. At length we 
succeeded in swimming our horses, and reached the oppo- 
site shore ; though I and my little boy but just escaped 
from being drowned. From Sandusky, the path that we 
traveled was crooked and obscure; but was tolerably 
well understood by my oldest brother, who had traveled 
it a number of times when going to and returning from 
the Cherokee wars. The fall by this time was consider- 
ably advanced, and the rains, attended with cold winds, 
continued daily to increase the difficulties of traveling. 
From Connewango we came to a place, called by the 
Indians Che-ua-shung-gau-tau, on the Alleghany River, at 
the mouth of what is now called Cold Spring creek, in tha 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 79 

town of Napoli, Cattaraugus county, state of New York, 
and from that to U-na-waum-gwa, or Tu-ne-un-gwan, 
(which means an eddy, not strong,) where the early frosts 
had destroyed the corn, so that the Indians were in 
danger of starving for the want of bread. Having rested 
ourselves two days at that place, we came on to Canea- 
dea* and stayed one day, and then continued our march 
until we arrived at Little Beard's Town, in Genishau, at 
that time a large Seneca town, thickly inhabited. 

Those only who have traveled on foot the distance of 
five or six hundred miles, through an almost pathless 
wilderness, can form any idea of the fatigue and suffer- 
ings that I endured on that journey. My clothing was 
thin, and illy calculated to defend me from the continually 
drenching rains with which I was daily completely wet ; 
and at night, with nothing but my wet blanket to cover 
me, I had to sleep on the naked ground, and generally 
without a shelter, save such as nature provided. In addi- 
tion to all that, I had to carry my child, then about nine 
months old, every step of the journey on my back, or in 
my arms, and provide for his comfort and prevent his 
suffering, as far as my poverty of means would admit. 
Such was the fatigue that I sometimes felt, that I thought 
it impossible for me to go through, and I would almost 

* Caneadea is a well-preserved Seneca name. The original, Ga>6-ya» 
de-Oy signifies " where the heavens rest upon the earth," — [Ed. 



80 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

abandon the idea of even trying to proceed. My brothers 
were attentive, and at length, as I have stated, we reached 
our place of destination, in good health, and without hav- 
ing experienced a day's sickness from the time we left 
Yishkahwana. 

We were kindly received by my Indian mother and the 
other members of the family, who appeared to make me 
welcome ; and my two sisters, whom I had not seen in 
two years, received me with every expression of love and 
friendship ; and that they really felt what they expressed, 
I have never had the least reason to doubt. The warmth 
of their feelings, the kind reception which I met with, and 
the continued favors that I received at their hands, riveted 
my affection for them so strongly that I am constrained 
to believe that I loved them as I should have loved my 
own sister, had she lived, and had I been brought up 
with her. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 81 



CHAPTER V* 

Geographical names — Dialects of the Iroquois — Little Beard's Town — 
The Genesee Valley — Land slide — Gardeau Flats — Subsequently 
Mary Jemison Reservation — Mount Morris — Big Tree Village — 
Caneadea. 

Having conducted the principal subject of our narra- 
tive to Genishau, or Little Beard's Town,t on the banks 
of Genesee River, whereon, within the space of twelvo 
miles along that stream, she has since resided seventy-two 
years of her life — this likewise being the ground on which 
most of the scenes we are about to relate, whether of joy 
or sorrow, pleasure or pain, whether ludicrous or horrible, 
were enacted — we will give the reader a brief geograph- 
ical sketch of the country, and point out the localities, 
and those in the surrounding country, most of which have 
already been, or will hereafter be, referred to in this 
narrative. 

It will be understood, that, in describing Indian villages, 

* This chapter was added by Ebenezer Mix, Esq. — [Ed. 

| The name of Little Beard's Town was De-onun-da-ga-a, signify- 
ing "Where the hill is near." It was situated upon the west side of 
the Genesee Valley, immediately in front of Cuylerville. — [Ed. 
4* 



82 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

etc., we have relation to their state then ; for some of 
them have long since been deserted by the Indians, and 
demolished by the whites; and at this time, 1842, all 
those on the Genesee River have ceased to exist, scarce 
leaving a memorial or trace to point out the spot on which 
they stood. It will likewise be observed that the dis- 
tances herein given are according to the Indian trails or 
paths usually traveled by them in that early day. 

A few remarks on Indian names and the Indian lan- 
guage, in this place, may be serviceable to the reader 
who is unacquainted with the significant properties of 
Indian proper names, and the monotonous sounds and full 
aspirations of the language of the Iroquois. It has been 
often observed that a great discrepancy exists among 
writers, not only in the spelling, but in the necessary 
pronunciation of Indian names of the same persons or 
places. It requires but a short explanation to elucidate 
the cause of this difficulty. Among the Six Nations, not 
only each nation converses in a different dialect, but each 
tribe in the same nation have peculiarities in their lan- 
guage not common in the other tribes, although probably 
not varying more than the dialects in many of the counties 
in England. 

All Indian names, whether of persons or places, are 
significant of some supposed quality, appearance, or local 
situation; and the Indians having no written language 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 83 

originally, denominated persons and places in conformity 
to such quality, etc., in their own dialect. 

The better to be understood, we will mention a partic- 
ular case or two, which will give a full explanation to 
the position assumed : Red Jacket, the celebrated Indian 
orator, had six or seven different, and in some instances 
very dissimilar Indian names, as written or spoken ; but 
they all meant, in the dialect to which they belonged, 
"Keeper Awake." The same remarks will apply to the 
name of the creek which empties into Genesee River, 
near Mount Morris, generally called Canniskrauga,* 
which has four or five other quite different Indian names, 
all meaning the same, in English, to wit, " Among the 
slippery-elms," as the creek bore the name of an Indian 
village through which it passed, the village having been 
named from it? local situation. 

These explanations were obtained some years since, 
from the late Capt. Horatio Jones, who was one of the 
best, if not the best Indian linguist in the country ; and 
his explanation had an influential bearing in an important 
land trial, as that creek had been called by several very 
different Indian names in the old title-deeds of large 
tracts of land. In order to have a correct idea of the 

* The name by which this creek and the village of Dansville is now 
known to the Senecas i3, Gci-mis-ga-go, signifying, "among the 
milkweed.' 5 — [Ed. 



84 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

pronunciation of Indian names, they must be divided into 
as many monosyllabical words as there are syllables, for 
so they originally were, and an h added to almost every 
syllable ending with a vowel. Therefore, as is the case 
in the pronunciation of all sentences composed of words 
of one syllable only, all difference of accent is destroyed, 
and the Indians use very little difference of emphasis. 
For example, take the original name of Canandaigua, as 
now spelled and pronounced in the Seneca language, 
Cah-nan-dah-gwah. * 

Formerly, in using Indian names, it was necessary to 
pay some attention to the Indian pronunciation, so as to 
be understood by the aborigines; but as they, together 
with their languages, are fast fading from among us, that 
necessity no longer exists. Therefore, it becomes neces- 
sary to Anglicise such names, and make them conform to 
the English pronunciation in as soft and smooth sounds 
as possible, to which the letters composing the word, 
when written, should be made to correspond. 

Little Beard's Town, where Mary Jemison first resided 
when she came to Genesee River, was the most consider- 
able Indian village, or town, in its vicinity. We have no 
means at this time of ascertaining, or even estimating, its 
extent or population r but tradition, as well as Mary Jem- 

* Gd-nun-dft-gwa, "a place selected for a settlement)" is the present 
spelling and pronunciation of this name. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 85 

ison, informs us, that it covered a large territory for a vil- 
lage, and that it was thickly populated. 

Its chief, or ruler, was Little Beard — a strong-minded, 
ambitious, and cruel man; and an arbitrary and despotic 
ruler. 

This village stood near the north end of the twelve 
miles in length heretofore mentioned, on the Genesee 
Flats, on the west side of the river, between the present 
villages of Genesee and Moscow, about midway, 
although nearest to Moscow, and near the site of the 
new village of Cuyler, on the Genesee Valley Canal. 

The tract of country around its site has the most 
delightful appearance imaginable, considering there are 
no lofty snow-clad peaks, deafening cataracts, or unfath- 
omable dells, to stamp it with the appellation of romantic. 
The alluvial flats through which the river meanders for 
four or five miles above and many miles below are from 
one mile to two miles wide, as level as a placid lake, and 
as fertile, to say the least, as any land in this state. Thou- 
sands of acres of these flats were cleared of their timber 
when Indian tradition commences their description. 
These flats are encompassed on each side by a rolling 
country, gradually rising as it recedes from the river, but 
in no place so abrupt as to merit the cognomen of a hill. 
This was the terrestrial paradise of the Senecas ; and to 

this tract they gave the name of Gen-ish-a-n, Chen-ne- 
6 D* 



86 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON, 

se-co, Gen-ne-se-o, or Gen-ne-see, as pronounced by the 
different Indian tribes, and being interpreted, all meaning 
substantially the same; to wit, Shining-Clear-Opening, 
Pleasant-Clear-Opening, Clear- Valley, or Pleasant-Open- 
Valley. From this favorite spot Genesee River took its 
name ; and these flats, at that early period, assumed and 
still continue to retain exclusively the name of Genesee 
Flats, as a distinction from Gardeau, Caneadea, and 
other flats which bear local names although lying on the 
same river. 

Genesee River rises in Pennsylvania, and, after enter- 
ing this state, pursues its course with some rapidity, a 
little west of north, through a hilly country, forming 
little, if any, alluvial flats, until it approaches Belvidere, 
(Judge Church's villa near Angelica,) about twenty miles 
from Pennsylvania line. From thence it continues the 
same general course with less rapidity, winding its way 
through flats of a greater or less width, to a point in 
Caneadea, about thirty-three miles from Pennsylvania 
line, following the general course of the river, where it 
alters to east of north, which direction it pursues until it 
falls into Lake Ontario, From Belvidere to this bow, or 
rather angle in the river, and from the angle to the falls 
below Portageville, the flats are enclosed on each side by 
high lands, although not precipitous or lofty. The river 
continues to run with moderate rapidity through flats 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 87 

from this angle to near. Portage ville, where the highlands 
close in to the river banks. 

At Portageville, about fifteen miles from the angle at 
Caneaclea, begin the great Portage Falls in this river. 
From the upper falls to Mount Morris and Squawkie 
Hill, a distance of sixteen miles, the river runs through a 
chasm, the sides of which are, the greater part of the dis- 
tance, formed by solid, and almost, or quite, perpendicu- 
lar walls of rock, from two to four hundred feet high. In 
some places, however, these walls diverge so far froni 
each other as to allow spots of excellent alluvial flats to 
be formed on one side of the river or the other, and in 
some places on both. 

Immediately above the upper falls there exists all the 
appearance of a ridge of rock having once run across the 
river, in which case it would have raised the water some 
two hundred feet above its present level, and, of course, 
formed a lake from one to two miles wide, and extending 
back over the Caneaclea and other flats, to Belvidere, a 
distance of twenty-eight or thirty miles ; but, if ever this 
was the case, the river has, centuries ago, cut through 
this ridge, and formed considerable rapids where it stood, 
above and opposite Portageville. The river, after appar- 
ently cutting through this ridge, precipitates itself into 
the chasm below, by a somewhat broken, although what 
would be termed perpendicular fall of sixty-six feet. The 



88 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

stream at this place is about twelve rods wide, after 
which it flows through the chasm on a smooth rock bot- 
tom. Half a mile below the upper falls, the river, (where 
it is about fifteen rods wide,) again precipitates itself in 
an unbroken sheet, one hundred and ten feet perpendicu- 
larly into a deeper channel, forming the "Middle Falls." 
The magnificence and beauty of these falls is not exceeded 
by any thing of the kind in the state, except the cataract 
of Niagara. On the west side of the river, at the top of 
the falls, is a small flat piece of land, or rather rock, on 
which is a saw-mill and several dwelling houses, which 
can be approached, down a ravine from the west, with 
any kind of carriage. The stream pursues its course in 
the same direction, pent within its rock-bound and pre- 
cipitous shores, about two miles, where it takes its third 
and last leap in this vicinity, of ninety-three feet, into a 
still deeper chasm, the greater body of water falling on 
the eastern side, where a portion of it falls into a kind of 
hanging rock basin, about one-third of the distance down, 
and then takes another leap. This fall can be approached 
on the east side by pedestrians with perfect, safety. 

The river then pursues its north-eastern course, through 
its deep and narrow channel, to Gardeau Flats, about five 
miles from the lower falls. The banks of the river, or 
rather the land bordering on the chasm the greater por- 
tion of this distance, is covered with elegant white and 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 89 

Norway pine. At the upper end of the Gardeau Flats is 
the Great Slide, which has been so often noticed as a 
great curiosity. 

In the month of May, 1817, a portion of the land on 
the west side of the river, thickly covered with heavy 
timber, suddenly gave way, and with a tremendous crash 
slid into the bed of the river, which is so completely filled 
that the stream formed a new channel on the east side of 
it, where it continues to run. This slide, as it now lies, 
contains twenty-two acres, and has a considerable share 
of the timber that formerly covered it still standing erect 
and growing, although it has suffered the shock produced 
by a fall of some two hundred feet below its former 
elevation. 

The Gardeau Flats are from eighty to one hundred and 
twenty rods wide, and extend two miles and a quarter 
down the river, lying mostly on the west side of it. There 
are several ravines and depressions in the high banks on 
both sides of the river at the upper end of these flats, so 
that a road has been made which admits the passage of 
carriages from the highlands on one side of the river to 
the highlands on the other, a bridge having been erected 
across the river : this place above the slide is called St. 
Helena. Some four miles below St. Helena is Smoky 
Hollow, containing from two to three hundred acres of 
alluvial flats, approachable from the west only with safety* 



90 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

and in that direction through a ravine and down a steep 
declivity : this was within Mrs. Jemison's original reser- 
vation. Below this place three or four miles, the river 
receives the outlet of Silver Lake.* This lake or pond 
is a beautiful pellucid sheet of water, three and a half 
miles long, and from half to three-fourths of a mile in 
breadth, lying about four miles west of, and several hun- 
dred feet above the Genesee Eiver, thereby creating a 
vast water-power for so small a stream. 

Some distance below the entrance of the outlet of 
Silver Lake into the river, is from twenty to twenty -five 
acres of alluvial flats in a perfect dell. It was purchased 
many years ago by a man who now resides on it, although 
his land extends over the high bank, and includes hand- 
some level land there. It is certain that he and his 
family do go in and out of this dell, and that he gets in 
cattle and other domestic animals ; but it would test the 
science of an engineer to ascertain how he effects it. 

At the distance of eleven miles from St. Helena is 
Mount Morris,t on the right or eastern side of the river, 
and Squawkie Hill on the left or western. These are not 
mountains, or even hills, within the common acceptance 

* Ga-na-y'dt — Its signification is lost.— [Ed. 

f The name of Mount Morris, in the Seneca dialect, was So-no'-jo- 
xvan-ga. This was the name of Big Kettle, an orator not less distin- 
guished among the Senecas than Red Jacket himself. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 91 

of the words, but merely a descent of two or three hun- 
dred feet, and that not abrupt, nor is its existence in any- 
particular line of demarkation observable, from the upper 
plateau of land through which the depressed channel of 
Genesee Eiver runs down to Genesee Flats. 

From Mount Morris and Squawkie Hill, where the 
river disgorges itself from the thraldom of its rocky and 
precipitous banks, it moves slowly, taking a serpentine 
course through the Genesee and other flats : the high 
grounds on each side gradually diminishing in hight, and 
the alluvial flats decreasing in width in proportion, until 
the stream merely flows in its shallow channel through a 
champaign country, before it reaches the great falls at 
Rochester, near forty miles from Mount Morris, where, 
after passing the rapids, it falls ninety-six feet perpen- 
dicularly into a chasm below, through which it flows 
one and a half miles further, and then passes two 
more perpendicular falls, within a short distance of each 
other, the upper one of twenty-five feet, and the lower of 
eighty -four feet. At the foot of these falls the river be- 
comes navigable for steamboats, and runs sluggishly five 
miles through a deep ravine a portion of the way to its 
mouth, where it disembogues itself into Lake Ontario. 

Bigtree* village, which bore the name of one of its chiefs, 

* The word Ga-un-do-wa-na, which was the name of this village, 
signifies a "big tree." — [Ed. 



92 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

was a small village lying a mile and a half north of Little 
Beard's Town. Ten miles still further down the river 
was situated Cannewagus* village, a place of some note 
for a sub-village. This was the residence of the patriarch 
Hot Bread. 

Tonawanda Indian village, whose inhabitants have 
always been remarkable for their peaceable and quiet dis- 
position, is situated on the Tonawanda creek, about forty 
miles north-west of Little Beard's Town, on the great 
Indian trail from east to west passing through this 
country. The Great Bend of the Tonawanda creek, be- 
tween Little Beard's Town and the Tonawanda village, 
where the village of Batavia now stands, was a noted 
camping-ground for the Indians while passing to and fro 
on this trail. Still further north-west, thirty-two miles 
from Tonawanda village, is Tuscarora village, inhabited 
by the most civilized, agricultural, mechanical, and com- 
mercial tribe of the Six Nations. Lewiston is three miles 
west of Tuscarora village, and Fort Niagara is seven 

* The Iroquois still retain their geographical names with great 
fidelity. As their proper names are descriptive, they still form a part 
of their language. Wherever an American village sprang up on one 
of their known localities, the name of the old village was immediately 
transferred to the new, and down to the present time the Iroquois still 
call them by their original names. Thus, G'd-no-wan-ges, signifying 
" Stinking Water." The name of this Indian village was transferred 
to Avon, by which it is still known among them. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 93 

miles north of Lewiston, making the whole route from 
Little Beard's Town to Fort Niagara, following this trail, 
eighty -two miles. From Lewiston seven miles south was 
Fort Schlosser, a mere stockade fort ; the Devil's Hole 
being about midway between those two points. Fort 
Schlosser was at the northern termination of the navi- 
gable waters of the Niagara Kiver above the falls ; and 
this seven miles from Lewiston to Schlosser was the 
only place requiring land transportation for men, stores. 
or merchandise, from Quebec to Fort Mackinaw, or in- 
deed, from the Atlantic Ocean to the end of Lake Supe- 
rior. These forts, therefore, Niagara and Schlosser, were 
considered very important by the contending parties in 
olden times, the French and the English. 

From Tonawanda village about twenty-five miles south- 
westerly lies the first Indian village on the Buffak) 
creek, along which and its several branches there are a 
number of Indian villages and single wigwams. Up the 
shore of Lake Erie in a south-western direction, about 
thirty-five miles from Buffalo creek, is the village of Cat- 
taraugus, situated on the creek of the same name, two or 
three miles from its mouth, being about one hundred 
miles from Little Beard's Town, following this circuitous 
trail, which was the one always traveled by the Indians, 
unless an experienced runner took a shorter cut, at his 
own hazard, in a case of emergency. 



94 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

East of Little Beard's Town are Conesus, Hemlock, 
Candice, Honeoye, Canandaigua, and Seneca lakes ; five 
miles west of the foot of the latter stood the famous In- 
dian and tory head-quarters, called the " Old Castle/' 
The foot of Canandaigua Lake is about ten miles west of 
the Old Castle, and thirty-four miles east of Little Beard's 
Town. 

The Indian village of Can-ne-skrau-gah, meaning 
"among the slippery-elms," was situated about four- 
teen miles south-easterly of Mount Morris, on a creek of 
the same name, which empties into Genesee River near 
the latter place. This village stood on or near the 
ground now occupied by the village of Dansville. East 
of the junction of Genesee River and Canneskraugah 
creek, extending some distance up the river and down the 
rtver, was a sparsely-settled Indian village or settlement, 
which appeared to be a kind of suburb of Genishau, or 
Little Beard's Town.* 

Squawkie Hill village, lying about two miles south of 
Little Beard's Town, was a great resort for the Indians 



* Da-yo'-it-ga-Oy the name of this village, means " Where the river 
issues from the hills." It describes the place where the Genesee 
River emerges from between two narrow walls of rock, and enters the 
broad valley of the Genesee. This valley, separating itself from the 
river at this point, extends up to Dansville, and the Caneserauga 
creek flows through it. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 95 

to enjoy their sportive games, gymnastic feats, and civic 
festivals. 

Caneadea Indian village, or rather villages, were situ- 
ated up the Genesee Eiver on the Caneadea Flats, be- 
ginning at the mouth of Wiscoy, meaning "Many Fall," 
creek, twenty miles from Mount Morris, and extending up 
the river, at intervals, eight or nine miles, nearly to the 
great angle in the river. From the southern end of Can- 
neadea Indian settlement south-westerly about forty-five 
miles, on the Alleghany Eiver, is the small Indian village 
called by Mrs. Jemison U-na-waum-gwa, but now known 
as Tu-ne-un-gwan. Further down the river is Kill Buck's 
Town, at the mouth of Great Valley creek, and Buck 
Tooth's Town, at the mouth of Little Valley creek. 
Below these is Che-na-shung-gan-tan or Te-ush-un-ush-un- 
gau-tau, being at the mouth of what is now called Cold 
Spring creek, in the town of Kapoli, Cattaraugus county, 
N. Y. This village is about eighteen miles below Tune- 
ungwan. Below these are several Indian settlements 
along the river, the most considerable of which is Corn- 
planter's settlement, extending several miles along the 
river, Cornplanter himself being located near the center. 

Of the population of the several Indian villages and 
settlements at the time Mrs. Jemison emigrated to this 
section of country, we can make no estimate ; and even 
in latter years, so wandering are the habits of the Indians 



96 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

that a village may be filled to overflowing, apparently, 
with residents, one month, and be almost depopulated the 
next. Their manner of lodging, cooking, and eating, 
greatly facilitates their migratory propensities, as one 
large cabin will as well accommodate fifty as five. A 
deer-skin for a bed, a large kettle for a boiler, hot ashes 
or embers for an oven, a bark trough for a soup-dish and 
platter, a chip for a plate, a knife, (which each carries,) 
a sharp stick for a fork, and, perhaps, a wooden spoon and 
tin cup, comprehend a complete set of household furni- 
ture, cooking and eating utensils. Even at this day, the 
only time the number of individuals who compose a tribe 
is known, or pretended to be known, is when they are 
about to receive their annuities ; and it is then impossible 
to ascertain a "local habitation or a name" for but few 
of the individuals for whom annuities are drawn as be- 
longing to such a tribe. 

The following statement of the numbers and location 
of the Indians composing the Six Nations, in 1823, is a 
specimen of the precision adopted in the transaction of 
our public business relative to Indian affairs. This ac- 
count was obtained from Captain Horatio Jones, who 
was the United States agent for paying the annuities to 
the Six Nations. 

The individuals belonging to the Six Nations, in the 
state of New York, are located on their reservations from 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 97 

Oneida Lake westward to Lake Erie and Alleghany 
River, and amount to fire thousand. Those located in 
Ohio on the Sandusky River amount to six hundred and 
eighty-eight, to wit : three hundred and eighty Cayugas, 
one hundred Seneeas, sixty-four Mohawks, sixty-four 
Oneidas, and eighty Onondagas. The bulk of the Mo- 
hawks, together with some of each of the other five na- 
tions, reside on the Grand River, in Upper Canada. 
5 



98 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Indians march to fight the British — Return with cattle and prison- 
ers — Two prisoners burned — An Indian woman's eloquence — 
Tragedy of the " Devil's Hole " — Death of She-nan-jee — Attempt 
to take Mary to Niagara by force — She. marries Hi-ok-a-too — Her 
children — Loss of a daughter. 

When we arrived at Genishau, the Indians of that 
tribe were making active preparations for joining the 
French, in order to assist them in retaking Fort Ne-a- 
gaw, # (as Fort Erie was called in the Seneca language,) 
from the British, who had taken it from the French in the 
month preceding. They marched off the next day after 
our arrival, painted and accoutered in all the habiliments 
of Indian warfare, determined on death or victory ; and 
joined the army in season to assist in accomplishing a 
plan that had been previously concerted for the destruc- 
tion of a part of the British army. The British, feeling 
themselves secure in the possession of Fort Neagaw, and 

* The Seneca name of the Niagara River, and of Lake Ontario, was 
Ne-dti-ga. They derived this name from a locality near the site of 
Youngstown, in the vicinity of which is the present Fort Niagara. Our 
present name Niagara, is derived from this word. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 99 

unwilling that their enemies should occupy any of the 
military posts in that quarter, determined to take Fort 
Schlosser — lying a few miles up the river from Nea- 
gaw — which they expected to effect with but little loss. 
Accordingly, a detachment of soldiers, sufficiently numer- 
ous, as was supposed, was sent out to take it, leaving a 
strong garrison in the fort; and marched off, well prepared 
to effect their object. But on their way they were sur- 
rounded by the French and Indians, who lay in ambush 
to receive them, and were driven back with great loss. 
Our Indians were absent but a few days, and returned in 
triumph, bringing with them two white prisoners, and a 
number of oxen. Those were the first neat cattle that 
were ever brought to Genesee Flats. 

The next day after their return to Genishau was set 
apart as a day of feasting and frolicking, at the expense 
of the lives of their two unfortunate prisoners on whom 
they proposed to glut their revenge, and satisfy their 
love for retaliation upon their enemies. My sister was 
anxious to attend the execution, and to take me with her 
to witness the customs of the warriors, as it was one of 
the highest kind of frolics ever celebrated in their tribe, 
and one that was not often attended with so much pomp 
and parade as. it was expected that would be. I felt a 
kind of anxiety to witness the scene, having never at- 
tended an execution ; and yet I felt a kind of horrid 



100 LIFE OF MARY JEMISOX. 

dread that made my heart revolt, and inclined me to step 
back, rather than support the idea of advancing. On the 
morning of the execution, she made her intention of go- 
ing to the frolic and taking me with her known to our 
mother, who, in the most feeling terms, remonstrated 
against a step at once so rash and unbecoming the true 
dignity of our sex. 

" How, my daughter," said she, addressing my sister, 
" how can you even think of attending the feast, and see- 
ing the unspeakable torments that those poor, unfortunate 
prisoners must inevitably suffer from the hands of our 
warriors ? How can you stand and see them writhing in 
the warrior's fire, in all the agonies of a slow and lingering 
death ? How can you think of enduring the sound of 
their groanings, and prayers to the Great Spirit for sud- 
den deliverance from their enemies, or from life ] And 
how can you think of conducting to that melancholy spot 
your poor sister Deh-he-wa-mis, (meaning myself,) who 
has so lately been a prisoner ; who has lost her parents 
and brothers by the hands of the bloody warriors ; and 
who has felt ail the horrors of the loss of her freedom, in 
lonesome captivity ? Oh ! how can you think of making 
her bleed at the wounds which are now but partially 
healed ? The recollection of her former troubles would 
deprive us of Deh-he-wa-mis, and she would depart to 
the fields of the blessed, where fighting has ceased, and 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 301 

the corn needs no tending — where hunting is easy, the 
forests delightful, the summers are pleasant, and the win- 
ters are mild ! Oh ! think once, my daughter, how soon 
you may have a brave brother made prisoner in battle, 
and sacrificed to feast the ambition of the enemies of his 
kindred, and leave us to mourn for the loss of a friend, a 
son, and a brother, whose bow brought us venison, and 
supplied us with blankets! Our task is quite easy at 
home, and our business needs our attention. With war 
we have nothing to do : our husbands and brothers are 
proud to defend us, and their hearts beat with ardor to 
meet our proud foes. Oh ! stay, then, my daughter : 
let our warriors alone perform on their victims their cus- 
toms of war! " 

This speech of our mother had the desired effect ; we 
stayed at home, and attended to our domestic concerns. 
The prisoners, however, were executed, by having their 
heads taken off, their bodies cut in pieces and shockingly 
mangled, and then burnt to ashes. They were burnt on 
the north side of Fallbrook, directly opposite the town, 
which was on the south side, some time in the month of 
Xovember, 1759. 

Our Indians were also among those who lay in ambush 

on the Niagara Eiver to intercept a party of the British 

who were guarding a quantity of baggage from Lewiston 

to Fort Schlosser. When the British party arrived at 
7 E 



102 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

the designated point, the Indians arose from their ambush, 
and drove the British off the bank of the river, into a 
place called the Devil's Hole, together with their horses, 
carriages, and loading, and everything belonging to the 
party. Not a man escaped being driven off ; and of the 
whole number, one only was fortunate enough to escape 
with life * 

I spent the winter comfortably, and as agreeably as I 
could have expected in the absence of my kind husband. 
Spring at length appeared, but Sheninjee was yet away ; 
summer came on, but my husband had not found me. 
Fearful forebodings haunted my imagination ; yet I felt 
confident that his affection for me was so great that if he 
was alive he would follow me, and I should again see 
him. In the course of the summer, however, I received 
intelligence that soon after he left me at Yiskahwana he 
was taken sick, and died at Wiishto. This was a heavy 
and unexpected blow. I was now in my youthful days, 
left a widow, with one son, and was entirely dependent on 
myself for his and my support. My mother and her fam- 
ily gave me all the consolation in their power; and in a 
few months my grief wore off, and I became contented. 

In a year or two after this, according to my best recol- 
lection of the time, the king of England offered a bounty 

* See " Tragedy of the Devil's Hole." 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 103 

to those who would bring in the prisoners that had been 
taken in that war to some military post, where they 
might be redeemed, and set at liberty. 

John Van Sice, a Dutchman, who had frequently been 
at our place, and was well acquainted with every prisoner 
at Genisham resolved to take me to Niagara, that I 
might there receive my liberty, and he the offered bounty. 
I was notified of lis intention ; but as I was fully deter- 
mined not to be redeemed at that time, especially with 
his assistance. I carefully watched his movements, in 
order to avoid falling into his hands. It so happened, 
however, that he saw me alone at work in a cornfield, and 
thinking, probably, that he could secure me easily, ran 
toward me in great haste. I espied him at some distance, 
and well knowing the intent of his errand, run from hirn 
with all the speed I was mistress of, and never once 
stopped till I reached Gardeau. He gave up the chase, 
and returned: but I, fearing that he might be lying in 
wait for me. stayed three days and three nights in an old 
cabin at Gardeau ; and then went back, trembling at 
every step, for fear of being apprehended. I got home 
without difficulty; and soon after, the chiefs in council 
having learned the cause of my elopement, gave orders 
that I should not be taken to any military post without 
my consent; and that, as it was my choice to stay. I 
should live among them quietly and undisturbed. But 



104 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

notwithstanding the will of the chiefs, it was but a few 
days before, the old king of our tribe told one of my In- 
dian brothers that I should be redeemed, and he would 
take me to Niagara himself. In reply to the old king,* 
my brother said that I should not be given up ; but that, 
as it was my wish, I should stay with the tribe as long as 
I was pleased to. Upon tffis a serious quarrel ensued be- 
tween them, in which my brother frankly told him that 
sooner than I should be taken by force, he would kill me 
with his own hands. Highly enraged at the old king, my 
brother came to my sister's house, where I resided, and 
informed her of all that had passed respecting me ; and 

* There is no propriety whatever in calling any of the Seneca chiefs 
by this title. The nation was originally governed by eight sachems, 
all of whom were equal in rank and authority; and the title was 
hereditary in the tribe, although not strictly in the family of the indi- 
vidual. The son could never succeed his father, because the father 
and son were always of different tribes. There were eight tribes in the 
Seneca nation — the Wolf, Bear, Beaver, Deer, Turtle, Snipe, Heron, 
and Hawk. 

No man was allowed to marry into his own tribe ; and the children 
were of the tribe of the mother. The title being hereditary in the 
tribe, the son was thereby excluded from the succession. 

At a later day, a class of chiefs were created subordinate to the 
sachems ; but in course of time they came to have an equal voice with 
the sachems in the administration of the affairs of the nation. The 
office was elective, and for life, and was not hereditary. To this day 
they have the eight sachems, still holding by the ancient tenure, and 
about seventy chiefs. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE- WA-MI3. 1 05 

that, if the old king should attempt to take me, as he 
firmly believed he would, he would immediately take my 
life, and hazard the consequences, He returned to the 
old king. As soon as I came in, my sister told me what 
she had just heard, and what she expected without doubt 
would befall me. Full of pity, and anxious for my pre- 
servation, she then directed me to take my child, and go 
into some high weeds at no great distance from the house, 
and there hide myself, and lay still till all was silent in 
the house; for my brother, she said, would return at 
evening, and let her know the final conclusion of the mat- 
ter, of which she promised to inform me in the following 
manner : If I was to be killed, she said she would bake 
a small cake, and lay it at the door, on the outside, in a 
place that she then pointed out to me. When all was 
silent in the house, I was to creep softly to the door, 
and if the cake could not be found in the place specified, 
I was to go in ; but if the cake was there, I was to take 
my child, and go as fast as I possibly could, to a large 
spring on the south side of Samp's creek, (a place that 
I had often seen,) and there wait till I should, by some 
means, hear from her. 

Alarmed for my own safety, I instantly followed her 

advice, and went into the weeds; where I lay in a state 

of the greatest anxiety till all was silent in the house, 

when I crept to the door, and there found, to my great 

5* 



106 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

distress, the little cake. I knew my fate was fixed, un- 
less I could keep secreted till the storm was over ; and ac- 
cordingly crept back to the weeds where my little Thomas 
lay, took him on my back, and laid my course for the 
spring as fast as my legs would carry me. Thomas was 
nearly three years old, and very large and heavy. I got 
to the spring early in the morning, almost overcome with 
fatigue ; and at the same time fearing that I might be 
pursued and taken, I felt my life an almost insupportable 
burden. I sat down with my child at the spring, and he 
and I made a breakfast of the little cake, and water of 
the spring, which I dipped and supped with the only im- 
plement which I possessed — my hand. On the morning 
after I fled, as was expected, the old king came to our 
house in search of me, to take me off; but as I was not 
to be found, he gave me up, and went to Niagara with 
the prisoners he had already got into his possession. 

As soon as the old king was fairly out of the way, my 
sister told my brother where he could find me. He im- 
mediately set out for the spring, and found me about 
noon. The first sight of him made me tremble with the 
fear of death; but when he came near — so near that I 
could discover his countenance — tears of joy flowed 
down my cheeks, and I felt a kind of instant relief, such 
as no one can possibly experience, unless when under the 
absolute sentence of death he receives au unlimited 
pardon, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 107 

We were both rejoiced at the failure of the old king's 
project ; and after staying at the spring through the 
night, set out together for home early in the morning. 
When we got to a cornfield near the town, my brother 
secreted me till he could go and ascertain how my case 
stood ; and finding that the old king was absent, and that 
all was peaceable, he returned to me, and I went home 
joyfully. 

Not long after this, my mother went to Johnstown, on 
the Mohawk River, with five prisoners, who were redeemed 
by Sir William Johnson, and set at liberty. 

When my son Thomas was three or four years old, I 
was married to an Indian, whose name was Hiokatoo, 
commonly called Gardeau, by whom I had four daughters 
and two sons. I named my children, principally, after 
my relatives from whom I was parted, by calling my girls 
Jane, Nancy, Betsey, and Polly, and the boys John and 
Jesse. Jane died about twenty-nine years ago, in the 
month of August, a little before the great council at Big 
Tree, aged about fifteen years. My other daughters are 
yet living, and have families. 



108 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Peace among the Indians — Their happy state — Troubles between 
England and the Colonies — Treaty with the Colonies — Iroquois 
agree to remain neutral — Treaty with the British — Join them 
against the Americans — Bounty for scalps — Four female prison- 
ers — Battle of Fort Stanwix — Indian loss — Butler and Brandt. 

After the conclusion of the French war, our tribe had 
nothing to do till the commencement of the American 
Revolution. For twelve or fifteen years, the use of the 
implements of war was not known, nor the warwhoop 
heard, save on days of festivity, when the achievements 
of former times were commemorated in a kind of mimic 
warfare, in which the chiefs and warriors displayed their 
prowess, and illustrated their former adroitness, by laying 
the ambuscade, surprising their enemies, and performing 
many accurate manceuvers with the tomahawk and scalp- 
ing knife ; thereby preserving, and handing to their 
children, the theory of Indian warfare. During that 
period they also pertinaciously observed the religious 
rites of their progenitors, by attending with the most 
scrupulous exactness, and a great degree of enthusiasm, 
to the sacrifices, at particular times, to appease the anger 







IN INDIAN COSTUME AT THE AGE OF SIXTEEN 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. Ill 

of the Evil Deity ; or to excite the commiseration of the 
Great Good Spirit, whom they adored with reverence, as 
the author, governor, supporter, and disposer of every 
good thing of which they participated. 

They also practiced in various athletic games, such as 
running, wrestling, leaping, and playing ball, with a view 
that their bodies might be more supple — or, rather, that 
they might not become enervated, and that they might 
be enabled to make a proper selection of chiefs for the 
councils of the nation, and leaders for war. 

While the Indians were thus engaged in their round of 
traditionary performances, with the addition of hunting, 
their women attended to agriculture, their families, and a 
few domestic concerns of small consequence and attended 
with but little labor. 

No people can live more happy than the Indians did in 

times of peace, before the introduction of spiritous liquors 

among them. Their lives were a continual round of 

pleasures. Their wants were few, and easily satisfied, 

and their cares were only for to-day — the bounds of 

their calculation for future comfort not extending to the 

incalculable uncertainties of to-morrow. If peace ever 

dwelt with men, it was in former times, in the recess from 

war, among what are now termed barbarians// The moral 

character of the Indians was (if I may be allowed the 

expression) uncontaminated. Their fidelity was perfect, 

E* 



112 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

and became proverbial. They were strictly honest ; they 
despised deception and falsehood ; and chastity was held 
in high veneration, and a violation of it was considered 
sacrilege. They were temperate in their desires, moderate 
in their passions, and candid and honorable in the ex- 
pression of their sentiments, on every subject of importance, \ N 

Thus, at peace among themselves and with the neigh- 
boring whites — though there were none at that time very 
near — our Indians lived quietly and peaceably at home, 
till a little before the breaking out of the Revolutionary 
War, when they were sent for, together with the chiefs, 
and members of the Six Nations generally, by the people 
of the states, to go to the German Flats, and there hold a 
general council, in order that the people of the states 
might ascertain, in good season, who they should esteem 
and treat as enemies, and who as friends, in the great war 
which was then upon the point of breaking out between 
them and the king of England. 

Our Indians obeyed the call, and the council was 
holclen, at which the pipe of peace was smoked, and a 
treaty made, in which the Six Nations solemnly agreed 
that, if a war should eventually break out, they would not 
take up arms on either side ; but that they would observe 
a strict neutrality. With that the people of the states 
were satisfied, as they had not asked their assistance, nor 
did they wish it. The Indians returned to their homes 



DEH-HE-W A-MIS. 113 

well pleased that they could live on neutral ground, sur- 
rounded by the din of war, without being engaged in it. 

About a year passed off, and we, as usual, were enjoy- 
ing ourselves in the employments of peaceable times, when 
a messenger arrived from the British commissioners, 
requesting all the Indians of our tribe to attend a general 
council which was soon to be held at Oswego. The 
council convened, and being opened, the British com- 
missioners informed the chiefs that the object of calling a 
council of the Six Nations was to engage their assistance 
in subduing the rebels — the people of the states, who 
had risen up against the good king, their master, and were 
about to rob him of a great part of his possessions and 
wealth — and added that they would amply reward them 
for their services. 

The chiefs then arose, and informed the commissioners 
of the nature and extent of the treaty which they had 
entered into with the people of the states, the year before ; 
and that they should not violate it by taking up the 
hatchet against them. 

The commissioners continued their entreaties without 
success, till they addressed their avarice, by telling our 
people that the people of the states were few in number, 
and easily subdued; and that, on the account of their 
disobedience to the king, they justly merited all the 
punishment that it was possible for white men and Indians 



114 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

to inflict upon them ; and added, that the king was rich 
and powerful, both in money and subjects ; that his rum 
was as plenty as the water in Lake Ontario ; that his men 
were as numerous as the sands upon the lake shore ; and 
that the Indians, if they would assist in the war, and per- 
severe in their friendship to the king till it was closed, 
should never want for money or goods. Upon this the 
chiefs concluded a treaty with the British commissioners, 
in which they agreed to take up arms against the rebels, 
and continue in the service of his majesty till they were 
subdued, in consideration of certain conditions which were 
stipulated in the treaty to be performed by the British 
government and its agents.* 

As soon as the treaty was finished, the commissioners 
made a present to each Indian of a suit of clothes, a brass 
kettle, a gun, and tomahawk, a scalping-knife, a quantity 
of powder and lead, a piece of gold, and promised a 
bounty on every scalp that should be brought in. Thus 
richly clad and equipped, they returned home, after an 
absence of about two weeks, full of the fire of war, and 
anxious to encounter their enemies, Many of the kettles 

* Unanimity was a fundamental law of the Iroquois civil polity. 
When the question of joining the English came before the council of 
the League, the Oneidas refused to concur, and thus defeated the 
measure ; but it was agreed that each nation might engage in it upon 
its own responsibility. It was impossible to keep the Mohawks from 
the English alliance. — [Ed. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 115 

which the Indians received at that time are now in use 
on the Genesee Flats. 

Hired to commit depredations upon the whites, who 
had given them no offense, they waited impatiently to 
commence their labor, till sometime in the spring of 1776, 
when a convenient opportunity offered for them to make 
an attack. At that time a party of our Indians were at 
C.au-te-ga, who shot a man that was looking after his 
horse, for the sole purpose, as I was informed by my 
Indian brother, who was present, of commencing hos- 
tilities. In May following, our Indians were in the first 
battle with the Americans ; but at what place I am un- 
able to determine. While they were absent at that time, 
my daughter Nancy was born. 

The same year, at Cherry Valley, our Indians took a 
woman and her three daughters prisoners, and brought 
them on, leaving one at Canandaigua, one at Honeoye, 
one at Cattaraugus, and one (the woman) at Little Beard's 
Town, where I resided. The woman told me that she 
and her daughters might have escaped, but that they 
expected the British army only, and therefore made no 
effort. Her husband and sons got away. After some 
time, they were all taken to Fort Niagara, where they 
were redeemed by Col. Butler, well clothed, and sent 
home — except one daughter, who was married to a 
British officer at the fort, by the name of Johnson. 



116 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

Johnson was of the party who captured her; at which 
time he very unceremoniously took from her finger a gold 
ring, and appropriated it to his own use. When he saw 
her again at Niagara, he recognized her, restored the ring 
so impolitely borrowed, courted and married her; and 
although the marriage ceremony was celebrated in a 
wilderness, far from the rendezvous of civilized society, 
and destitute of the facilities of obtaining the elegances, 
conveniences, or even the necessaries of life, they were 
singularly provided with a wedding-ring. 

In the same expedition, Joseph Smith was taken pris- 
oner at or near Cherry Valley, brought to Genesee, and 
detained till after the Revolutionary War. He was then 
liberated ; and the Indians made him a present, in com- 
pany with Horatio Jones, of six thousand acres of land, 
lying in the present town of Leicester, in the county of 
Livingston. 

Previous to the battle of Fort Stanwix, the British 
sent for the Indians to come and see them whip the rebels ; 
and at the same time stated that they did not wish to 
have them fight, but wanted to have them just sit down, 
smoke their pipes, and look on. Our Indians went, to a 
man ; but, contrary to their expectation, instead of smok- 
ing and looking on, they were obliged to fight for their 
lives ; and in the end of the battle were completely 
beaten, with a great loss in killed and wounded. Our 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 117 

Indians alone had thirty-six killed, and a great number 
wounded. Our town exhibited a scene of real sorrow and 
distress, when our warriors returned, recounted their mis- 
fortunes, and stated the real loss they had sustained in 
the engagement. The mourning was excessive, and was 
expressed by the most doleful yells, shrieks, and howl- 
ings, and by inimitable gesticulations. 

During the Revolution, my house was the home of 
Colonels Butler and Brandt, whenever they chanced to 
come into our neighborhood, as they passed to and from 
Fort Niagara, which was the seat of their military opera- 
tions. Many and many a night I have pounded samp for 
them from sunset till sunrise, and furnished them with 
the necessary provisions, and clean clothing, for their 
journey. 



118 LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Approach of General Sullivan's army — A skirmish — Two Oneida 
Indians taken — One sacrificed — Lieutenants Boyd and Parker 
captured — Boyd's barbarous execution — Parker's death — Senecas 
retreat to the woods — Sullivan's army lays waste the country — 
Army retires — Senecas return, but to disperse — Mary goes to 
Gardeau Flats — Expedition to the Mohawk — Cornplanter and John 
O'Bail — Ebenezer Allen. 

For four or five years we sustained no loss in the war, 
except in the few who had been killed in distant battles ; 
and our tribe, because of the remoteness of its situation 
from the enemy, felt secure from an attack. At length, 
in the fall of 1779, intelligence was received that a large 
and powerful army of the rebels, under the command of 
General Sullivan, was making rapid progress toward our 
settlement; burning and destroying the huts and corn- 
fields; killing the cattle, hogs, and horses; and cutting 
down the fruit-trees belonging to the Indians throughout 
the country * 

Our Indians immediately became alarmed, and suffered 
every thing but death, from fear that they should be 
taken by surprise, and totally destroyed at a single blow. 

* See Appendix — General Sullivan'3 Expedition. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 119 

But in order to prevent so great a catastrophe, they sent 
out a few spies, who were to keep themselves at a short 
distance in front of the invading army, in order to watch 
its operations, and give information of its advances and 
success. 

Sullivan arrived at Canandaigua Lake, and had finished 
his work of destruction there; and it was ascertained 
that he was about to march to our flats, when our Indians 
resolved to give him battle on the way, and prevent, if 
possible, the distress to which they knew we should be 
subjected, if he should succeed in reaching our town. 
Accordingly, they sent all their women and children into 
the woods a little west of Little Beard's Town, in order 
that we might make a good retreat, if it should be neces- 
sary; and then, well armed, set out to face the conquering 
enemy. The place which they fixed upon for their battle- 
ground, lay between Honeoye creek and the head of 
Oonesus Lake. At length a scouting-party from Sullivan's 
army arrived at the spot selected, when the Indians arose 
from their ambush with all the fierceness and terror that 
it was possible for them to exercise, and directly put the 
party upon a retreat. Two Oneida Indians were all the 
prisoners that were taken in that skirmish. One of them 
was a pilot of Gen. Sullivan's, and had been very active 
in the war, rendering to the people of the states essential 

services. At the commencement of the Revolution, he 

8 



120 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

had a brother older than himself, who resolved to join the 
British service, and endeavored, by all the art that he 
was capable of using, to persuade his brother to accom- 
pany him ; but his arguments proved abortive. One 
went to the British, and the other to the American army. 
At this critical juncture they met, one in the capacity of 
a conqueror, the other in that of a prisoner ; and as an 
Indian seldom forgets a countenance that he has seen, 
they recognized each other at sight. Envy and revenge 
glared in the features of the conquering savage, as he 
advanced to his brother (the prisoner,) in ail the haughti- 
ness of Indian pride hightened by a sense of pow T er, and 
addressed him in the following manner : 

"Brother, you have merited death! The hatchet or 
the war-club shall finish your career ! When I begged 
of you to follow me in the fortunes of war, you was deaf 
to my cries — you spurned my entreaties ! 

" Brother ! you have merited death ; and shall have 
your desserts^! When the rebels raised their hatchets to 
fight their good master, you sharpened your knife, you 
brightened your rifle, and led on our foes to the fields of 
our fathers ! You have merited death, and shall die by 
our hands ! When those rebels had driven us from the 
fields of our fathers to seek out new homes, it was you 
who could dare to step forth as their pilot, and conduct 
them even to the doors of our wigwams, to butcher our 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 121 

children, and to put us to death! Xo crime can be 
greater ! But, though you have merited death and shall 
die on this spot, my hands shall not be stained in the 
blood of a brother ! Who will strike ? " 

Little Beard, who was standing by, as soon as the 
speech was ended, struck the prisoner on the head with 
his tomahawk, and dispatched him at once. 

Little Beard then informed the other Indian prisoner 
that, as they were at war with the whites only, and not 
with the Indians, they would spare his life ; and, after a 
while, give him his liberty in an honorable manner. The 
Oneida warrior, however, was jealous of Little Beard's 
fidelity ; and suspecting that he should soon fall by his 
hands, watched for a favorable opportunity to make his 
escape ; which he soon effected. Two Indians were lead- 
ing him, one on each side, when he made a violent effort, 
threw them upon the ground, and ran for his life toward 
where the main body of the American army was en- 
camped. The Indians pursued him without success; but 
in their absence they fell in with a small detachment of 
Sullivan's men, with whom they had a short but severe 
skirmish, in which they killed a number of the enemy, 
took Captain (or Lieutenant) Thomas Boyd and one pri- 
vate prisoners, and brought them to Little Beard's Town, 
where they were soon after put to death in the most 

shocking and cruel manner. Little Beard, in this as in 
6 



122 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

all other scenes of cruelty that happened at his town, was 
master of ceremonies, and principal actor. Poor Boyd 
was stripped of his clothing, and then tied to a sapling ; 
where the Indians menaced his life, by throwing their 
tomahawks at the tree directly over his head, brandishing 
their scalping-knives around him in the most frightful 
manner, and accompanying their ceremonies with terriffic 
shouts of joy. Having punished him sufficiently in this 
way, they made a small opening in his abdomen, took out 
an intestine, which they tied to the sapling, and then un- 
bound him from the tree, and drove him round it, till he 
had drawn out the whole of his intestines. He was then 
beheaded, his head was stuck upon a pole, and his body 
left on the ground unburied. Thus ended the life of poor 
Thomas Boyd, who, it was said, had every appearance of 
being an active and enterprising officer, of the first tal- 
ents.* The other was, if I remember distinctly, only 
beheaded, and left near Boyd. 

This tragedy being finished, our Indians again held a 
short council on the expediency of giving Sullivan battle, 
if he should continue to advance; and finally came to 
the conclusion that they were not strong enough to drive 
him, nor to prevent his taking possession of their fields ; 
but that, if it was possible, they would escape with their 

* See Appendix — "Removal of the remains of Lieutenant Boyd." 



DEII-IIE-WA-MIS. 123 

own lives, preserve their families, and leave their posses- 
sions to be overrun by the invading army. 

The women and children were then sent on still further 
toward Buffalo, to a large creek, which was called by the 
Indians Catawba, (Stony creek, which empties into the 
Tonawanda creek at Varysburg, Wyoming county,) ac- 
companied by a part of the Indians, while the remainder 
secreted themselves in the woods back of Little Beard's 
Town., to watch the movements of the army. 

At that time I had three children who went with me 
on foot, one who rode on horseback, and one whom I 
carried on my back. 

Our corn was good that year, a part of which we had 
gathered and secured for winter. 

In one or two days after the skirmish at Conesus Lake, 
Sullivan and his army arrived at Genesee Eiver, where 
they destroyed every article of the food kind that they 
could lay their hands on. A part of our com they burnt, 
and threw the remainder into the river. They burnt our 
houses, killed what few cattle and horses they could find, 
destroyed our fruit-trees, and left nothing but the bare 
soil and timber. But the Indians had eloped, and were 
not to be found. 

Having crossed and recrossed the river, and finished 
the work of destruction, the army marched off to the east. 
Our Indians saw them move off, but, suspecting it was 



124 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

Sullivan's intention to watch our return, and then to take 
us by surprise, resolved that the main body of our tribe 
should hunt where we then were, till Sullivan had gone 
so far that there would be no danger of his returning to 
molest us. 

This being agreed to, we hunted continually till the 
Indians concluded that there could be no risk in our once 
more taking possession of our lands. Accordingly, we all 
returned; but what were our feelings when we found 
that there was not a mouthful of any kind of sustenance 
left — not even enough to keep a child one day from per- 
ishing with hunger. 

The weather by this time had become cold and stormy ; 
and as we were destitute of houses, and food too, I imme- 
diately resolved to take my children, and look out for 
myself, without delay. With this intention, I took two 
of my little ones on my back, bade the other three follow, 
and traveled up the river to Gardeau Flats, where I 
arrived that night. 

At that time, two negroes, who had run away from 
their masters some time before, were the only inhabitants 
of those flats. They lived in a small cabin, and had 
planted and raised a large field of corn, which they had 
not yet harvested. As they were in want of help to 
secure their crop, I hired to them to husk corn till the 
whole was harvested. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 125 

I have laughed a thousand times to myself, when I 
have thought of the good old negro who hired me, who, 
fearing that I should get taken or injured by the Indians, 
stood by me constantly when I was husking, with a 
loaded gun in his hand, in order to keep off the enemy ; 
and thereby lost as much labor of his own as he received 
from me, by paying good wages. I, however, was not 
displeased with his attention ; for I knew that I should 
need all the corn that I could earn, even if I should husk 
the whole. I husked enough for them, to gain for myself, 
at every tenth string, one hundred strings of ears, which 
were equal to twenty-five bushels of shelled corn. This 
seasonable supply made my family comfortable for samp 
and cakes through the succeeding winter, which was the 
most severe that I have witnessed since my remem- 
brance. The snow fell about five feet deep, and remained 
so for a long time ; and the weather was extremely cold, 
so much so, indeed, that almost all the game upon 
which the Indians depended for subsistence perished, and 
reduced them almost to a state of starvation through 
that and three or four succeeding years. When the 
snow melted in the spring, deer were found dead upon the 
ground in vast numbers ; and other animals of every de- 
scription perished from the cold also, and were found 
dead in multitudes. Many of our people barely escaped 



126 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

with their lives, and some actually died of hunger and 
freezing. 

Having been completely routed at Little Beard's Town, 
deprived of a house, and without the means of building 
one in season, after I had finished my husking, and having 
found from the short acquaintance which I had had with 
the negroes that they were kind and friendly, I concluded, 
at their request, to take up my residence with them for a 
while in their cabin, till I should be able to provide a hut 
for myself. I lived more comfortably than I expected to 
through the winter, and the next season made a shelter 
for myself. 

The negroes continued on these flats two or three years 
after this, and left them for a place that they expected 
would suit them much better. But as that land became 
my own in a few years, by virtue of a deed from the 
chiefs of the Six Nations, I have lived there from that to 
the present time. 

The next summer after Sullivan's campaign, our In- 
dians, highly incensed at the whites for the treatment they 
had received, and the sufferings which they had conse- 
quently endured, determined to obtain some redress, by 
destroying their frontier settlements. Cornplanter, other- 
wise called John O'Bail, led the Indians ; and an officer 
by the name of Johnston commanded the British in the 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 127 

expedition. The force was large, and so strongly bent 
upon exemplary retaliation and ample revenge that appa- 
rently nothing could avert its march or prevent its depre- 
dations. After leaving Genesee, they marched directly 
to some of the head-waters of the Susquehanna River 
and Schoharie creek ; went down that creek to the 
Mohawk River ; thence up that river to Fort Stanwix 3 
and from thence came home. In their route, they burnt 
a number of places, destroyed all the cattle and other 
property that fell in their way, killed a number of white 
people, and brought home a few prisoners. 

In that expedition, when they came to Fort Plain, on 
the Mohawk River, Cornplanter and a party of his In- 
dians took old John O'Bail, a white man, and made him 
a prisoner. Old John O'Bail, in his younger days, had 
frequently passed through the Indian settlements that lay 
between the Hudson and Fort Niagara ; and in some of 
his excursions had become enamored of a squaw, by whom 
he had a son, that was called Cornplanter. 

Cornplanter* was a chief of considerable eminence ; and 
having been informed of his parentage and of the place 
of his father's residence, took the old man, at this time, 
in order that he might make an introduction leisurely, and 
become acquainted with a man to whom, though a stran- 
ger, he was satisfied that he owed his existence. 

* Cornplanter's tomahawk is now in the State Indian Collection, at 
Albany. — TEd. F 



128 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

After he had taken the old man, his father, he led him 
as a prisoner ten or twelve miles up the river, and then 
stepped before him, faced about, and addressed him in the 
following terms : 

"My name is John O'Bail, commonly called Corn- 
planter. I am your son ! you are my father ! You are 
now my prisoner, and subject to the customs of Indian 
warfare. But you shall not be harmed — you need not 
fear, I am a warrior. Many are the scalps which I have 
taken. Many prisoners have I tortured to death. I am 
your son ! I am a warrior. I was anxious to see you, 
and to greet you in friendship. I went to your cabin, and 
took you by force. But your life shall be spared. In- 
dians love their friends and their kindred, and treat them 
with kindness. If now you choose to follow the fortune 
of your yellow son, and to live with our people, I will 
cherish your old age with plenty of venison, and you 
shall live easy ; but if it is your choice to return to your 
fields, and live with your white children, I will send a 
party of my trusty young men to conduct you back in 
safety. I respect you, my father ; you have been friendly 
to Indians, and they arc your friends." 

Old John chose to return. Cornplanter, as good as 
his word, ordered an escort to attend him home, which 
was done with the greatest care. 

Among the prisoners who were brought to Genesee, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 129 

was 'William Newkirk, a man by the name of Price, and 
two negroes. 

Price lived a while with Little Beard, and afterward 
with Jack Berry, an Indian. When he left Jack Berry, 
he went to Niagara ; where he now resides. 

Xewkirk was brought to Little Beard's Town, and 
lived with Little Beard and at Fort Niagara about one 
year, and then enlisted under Butler, and went with him 
on an expedition to the Monongahela. 

About this time, one Ebenezer Allen ran away from 
Pennsylvania, and came to live among us. He was much 
at my house with my son Thomas ; he was always hon- 
orable, kind, and even generous to me ; but the history of 
his life is a tissue of crimes and baseness of the blackest 
dye. I have often heard him relate his inglorious feats, 
and confess crimes, the rehearsal of which made my 
blood curdle, as much accustomed as I was to hear of 
bloody and barbarous deeds. 
6* 



130 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Mary ia offered her freedom — She declines accepting — Her reasons — 
Her favorite Indian brother dies — Great council at Big Tree, in 
1V97 — Gardeau reservation given to Mary by the chiefs — Con- 
tained 17,92? acres of land — Traditions of the Senecas — The 
Great Serpent at Nan-de-wa-o. 

Soon after the close of the Revolutionary War, my In- 
dian brother, Kau-jises-tau-ge-au, (which being interpreted 
signifies Black Coals,) offered me my liberty, and told me 
that if it was my choice I might go to my friends. 

My son Thomas was anxious that I should go; and 
offered to go with me, and assist me on the journey, 
by taking care of the younger children, and providing 
food as we traveled through the wilderness. But the 
chiefs of our tribe, suspecting, from his appearance, 
actions, and a few warlike exploits, that Thomas would 
be a great warrior, or a good counselor, refused to let 
him leave them on any account whatever. 

To go myself, and leave him, was more than I felt able 
to do ; for he had been kind to me, and was one on whom 
I placed great dependence. The chiefs refusing to let 
him go was one reason for my resolving to stay ; but 



DEII-IIE-WA-MIS. 131 

another, more powerful if possible, was, that I had got a 
large family of Indian children that I must take with me ; 
and that, if I should be so fortunate as to find my rela- 
tives, they would despise Them, -if not myself, and treat us 
as enemies, or, at least, with a degree of cold indifference, 
which I thought I could not endure. 

Accordingly, after I had duly considered the matter, I 
told my brother that it was my choice to stay and spend 
the remainder of my days with my Indian friends, and 
live with my family as I hitherto had done. He appeared 
well pleased with my resolution, and informed me that, as 
that was my choice, I should have a piece of land that I 
could call my own, where I could live unmolested, and 
have something at my decease to leave for the benefit of 
my children. 

In a short time, he made himself ready to go to Upper 
Canada ; but before he left us he told me he would speak 
to some of the chiefs at Buffalo, to attend the great council, 
which he expected would convene in a few years at fur- 
thest, and convey to me such a tract of land as I should 
select. My brother left us as he had proposed, and soon 
after died at Grand River. 

Kaujisestaugeau was an excellent man, and ever 
treated me with kindness. Perhaps no one of his tribe, 
at any time, exceeded him in natural mildness of temper 
and warmth and tenderness of affection. If he had taken 



132 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

my life at the time when the avarice of the old king in- 
clined him to procure my emancipation, it would have 
been done with a pure heart, and from good motives. He 
loved his friends, and was generally beloved. During 
the time that I lived in the family with him, he never 
offered the most trifling abuse; on the contrary, his whole 
conduct toward me was strictly honorable. I mourned 
his loss as that of a tender brother, and shall recollect 
him through life with emotions of friendship and gratitude. 

I lived undisturbed, without hearing a word on the 
subject of my land, till the great council was held at Big 
Tree, in 1797, when Farmer's Brother, whose Indian 
name is Ho-na-ye-wus, sent for me to attend the council. 
When I got there, he told me that my brother had spoken 
to him to see that I had a piece of land reserved for my 
use ; and that then was the time for me to receive it. 
He requested that I would choose for myself, and de- 
scribe the bounds of a piece that would suit me. I ac- 
cordingly told him the place of beginning, and then went 
round a tract that I judged would be sufficient for my 
purpose, (knowing that it would include the Gardeau Flats,) 
by stating certain bounds with which I was acquainted. 

When the council was opened, and the business afforded 
a proper opportunity, Farmer's Brother presented my 
claim, and rehearsed the request of my brother. Red 
Jacket, whose Indian name is Sagu-yu-what-hah, (which, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 133 

interpreted, is Keeper-awake,) opposed me and my claim 
with all his influence and eloquence. Farmer's Brother 
insisted upon the necessity, propriety, and expediency of 
his proposition, and got the land granted. The deed was 
made and signed, securing to me the title of all the land 
I had described ; under the same restrictions and regu- 
lations that other Indian lands are subject to. 

This tract is more than six miles long from east to 
west, and nearly four and three -fourths miles wide from 
north to south, containing seventeen thousand nine hun- 
dred and twenty-seven acres, with the Genesee Eiver run- 
ning centrally through it, from south to north. It has 
been known ever since as the Gardeau Tract, or the Gar- 
deau Reservation. 

Eed Jacket not only opposed my claim. at the council, 
but he withheld my money two or three years, on the 
account of my lands having been granted without his con- 
sent. Jasper Parrish and Horatio Jones, who had both 
been taken prisoners by the Indians, adopted and detained 
with them many years, the first being the Indian agent 
for the United States, and the other interpreter, inter- 
fered, and at length convinced Eed Jacket that it was the 
white people, and not the Indians, who had given me the 
land ; and compelled him to pay over all the money which 
he had retained on my account. My land derived its 
name, Gardeau, from a hill that is within its limits, which 



134 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

is called, in the Seneea language, Kautam. Kautam, 
when interpreted, signifies up and down, or down and up, 
and is applied to a hill that you ascend and descend in 
passing ; or to a valley. It has been said that Gardeau 
was the name of my husband Hiokatoo, and that my land 
derived its name from him ; that, however, is a mistake ; 
for the old man always considered Gardeau a nickname, 
and was uniformly offended when called by it. 

My flats were extremely fertile, but needed more labor 
than my daughters and myself were able to perform, to 
produce a sufficient quantity of grain and other necessary 
productions of the earth for the consumption of our 
family. The land had lain uncultivated so long that it 
was thickly covered with weeds of almost every descrip- 
tion. In order that we might live more easy, Mr. Parrish, 
with the consent of the chiefs, gave me liberty to lease or 
let my land to white people to till on shares. I accord- 
ingly let out the greater part of my improvements, and 
have continued to do so, which makes my task less bur- 
densome, while at the same time I am more comfortably 
supplied with the means of support. 

About three hundred acres of my land, when I first 
saw it, was open flats, lying on the Genesee Eiver, which 
is supposed was cleared by a race of inhabitants who pre- 
ceded the first Indian settlements in this part of the 
country. The Indians are confident that many parts of this 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 135 

country were settled, and for a number of years occupied, 
by the people of whom their fathers never had any tradi- 
tion, as they never had seen them. Whence those people 
originated, and whither they went, I have never heard 
one of the oldest and wisest Indians pretend to guess. 
When I first came to Genishau, the bank of Fall Brook 
had just slid off, and exposed a large number of human 
bones, which the Indians said were buried there long 
before their fathers ever saw the place, and that they did 
not know what kind of people they were. It, however, 
was, and is, believed by our people that they were not 
Indians. 

The tradition of the Seneca Indians, in regard to their 
origin, is, that they broke out of the earth from a large 
mountain at the head of Canandaigua Lake; and that 
mountain they still venerate as the place of their birth. 
Thence they derive their name, " Ge-nun-de-wah,"* or 
"Great Hill," and are called "The Great Hill People," 
which is the true definition of the word Seneca. 

The great hill at the head of Canandaigua Lake, from 
whence they sprung, is called Genundewah, and has for 
a long time past been the place where the Indians of that 
nation have met in council, to hold great talks, and to 

* The true name of the Senecas is Nun-da-wa-o-no, from Nun-da- 
wa-o, "a great hill." Hence the name of Nunda. from Nun-dd-o^ 
" hilly." — [Ed. 



136 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

offer up prayers to the Great Spirit, on account of its 
having been their birthplace ; and, also, in consequence 
of the destruction of a serpent at that place in ancient 
time, in a most miraculous manner, which threatened the 
destruction of the whole of the Senecas, and barely 
spared enough to commence replenishing the earth. 

The Indians say, that the fort on the big hill, or Ge- 
nundewah, near the head of Canandaigua Lake, was sur- 
rounded by a monstrous serpent, whose head and tail 
came together at the gate. A long time it lay there, con- 
founding the people with its breath. At length they 
attempted to make their escape, some with their hominy 
blocks, and others with different implements of household 
furniture ; and in marching out of the fort walked down 
the throat of the serpent. Two orphan children, who had 
escaped this general destruction by being left on this side 
of the fort, were informed, by an oracle, of the means by 
which they could get rid of their formidable enemy — 
which was, to take a small bow and a poisoned arrow, 
made of a kind of willow, and with that shoot the serpent 
under its scales. This they did, and the arrow proved 
effectual; for, on its penetrating the skin, the serpent 
became sick, and, extending itself, rolled down the hill, 
destroying all the timber that was in its way, disgorging 
itself, and breaking wind greatly as it went. At every 
motion a human head was discharged, and rolled down 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 137 

the hill into the lake, where they lie at this day in a petri- 
fied state, having the hardness and appearance of stones ; 
and the Pagan Indians of the Senecas believe, that all 
the little snakes were made of the blood of the great 
serpent, after it rolled into the lake. 

To this day, the Indians visit that sacred place to 
mourn the loss of their friends, and to celebrate some 
rites that are peculiar to themselves. To the knowledge 
of white people, there has been no timber on the great 
hill since it was first discovered by them, though it lay 
apparently in a state of nature for a great number of 
years, without cultivation. Stones in the shape of Indians' 
heads may be seen lying in the lake in great plenty, which 
are said to be the same that were deposited there at the 
death of the serpent. 

The Senecas have a tradition, that previous to, and for 
some time after their origin at Genundewah, the country, 
especially about the lakes, was thickly inhabited by a 
race of civil, enterprising, and industrious people, who 
were totally destroyed by the great serpent that afterward 
surrounded the great hill fort, with the assistance of others 
of the same species; and that they (the Senecas) went 
into possession of the improvements that were left. 

In those days the Indians throughout the whole country, 
as the Senecas say, spoke one language ; but having be- 
come considerably numerous, the before-mentioned great 



138 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

serpent, by an unknown influence, confounded their lan- 
guage, so that they could not understand each other; 
which was the cause of their division into nations — as 
the Mohawks, Oneidas, etc. At that time, however, the 
Senecas retained the original language, and continued 
to occupy their mother hill, on which they fortified them- 
selves against their enemies, and lived peaceably, until 
having offended the serpent, they were cut off as I have 
before remarked. 



DEH-HE-WA-3IIS. 139 



CHAPTER X, 

Little Beard's death — Singular superstition — Family government — 
Her sons Thomas and John quarrel — John murders Thomas — 
John is tried and acquitted by the chiefs — Thomas^ character — 
His wife and children — Death of Hi-ok-a-too — His age and 
funeral — His character. 

From the time I secured my land, my life passed for 
many years in an unvaried routine of superintending my 
family and taking care of my property, without the occur- 
rence of any event relative to me or my affairs worth notic- 
ing, and but few in which the nation or our villages felt 
much interest. 

About the first of June, 1806, Little Beard died, and 
was buried after the manner of burying chiefs. In his 
lifetime he had been quite arbitrary, and had made some 
enemies whom he hated, probably, and was not loved 
by them. The grave, however, deprives enmity of its 
malignity, and revenge of its keenness. 

Little Beard had been dead but a few days when the 
great eclipse of the sun took place, on the 16th of June, 
which excited in the Indians a great degree of astonishment ; 
for as they were ignorant of astronomy, they were totally 



140 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

unqualified to account for so extraordinary a phenomenon. 
The crisis was alarming, and something effectual must be 
done without delay, to remove, if possible, such coldness 
and darkness, which it was expected would increase. 
They accordingly ran together in the three towns near 
the Genesee River, and after a long consultation agreed 
that Little Beard, on the account of some old grudge 
which he yet cherished toward them, had placed him- 
self between them and the sun, in order that their corn 
might not grow, and so reduce them to a state of starva- 
tion. Having thus found the cause, the next thing was 
to remove it, which could only be done by the use of 
powder and ball. Upon this, every gun and rifle was 
loaded, and a firing commenced, that continued without 
cessation till the old fellow left his seat, and the obscu- 
rity was entirely removed, to the great joy of the ingeni- 
ous and fortunate Indians. 

I have frequently heard it asserted by white people, 
and can truly say from my own experience, that the 
time at which parents take most satisfaction and comfort 
with their families, is when their children are young, in- 
capable of providing for their own wants, and are about 
the fireside, where they can be duly observed and in- 
structed. 

In the government of their families among the Indians, 
the parents are very mild, the women superintending 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 141 

the children. The word of the father, however, is law, 
and must be obeyed by the whole who are under his au- 
thority. 

The Indians are very tenacious of their precedence and 
supremacy over their wives, and the wives acknowledge it 
by their actions, with the greatest subserviency. It is a 
rule inculcated in all the Indian tribes, and practiced 
generation after generation, that a squaw shall not walk 
before her husband, or take the lead in his business. For 
this reason we never see a party on the march, in which 
squaws are not directly in the rear of their partners. 

Few mothers, perhaps, have had less trouble with their 
children during their minority than myself. In general, 
my children were friendly to each other, and it was very 
seldom that I knew them to have the least difference or 
quarrel; so far indeed were they from rendering them- 
selves or me uncomfortable, that I considered myself 
happy — more so than commonly falls to the lot of par- 
ents, especially to women. 

My happiness in this respect, however, was not without 
alloy ; for my son Thomas, from some cause unknown to 
me, from the time he was a small lad, always called his 
brother John a witch, which was the cause, as they grew 
toward manhood, of frequent and severe quarrels between 
them, and gave me much trouble and anxiety for their 
safety. After Thomas and John had arrived to the age of 



142 LIFE OF MARY JEMISOK. 

manhood, another source of contention arose between them, 
founded on the circumstance of John's having two wives. 
Although polygamy * was tolerated in our tribe, Thomas 
considered it a violation of good and wholesome rules in 
society, and tending directly to destroy that friendly 
social intercourse and love which ought to be the happy 
result of matrimony and chastity. Consequently, he 
frequently reprimanded John, by telling him that his con- 
duct was beneath the dignity, and inconsistent with the 
principles of good Indians ; indecent, and unbecoming a 
gentleman ; and, as he never could reconcile himself to 
it, he was frequently — almost constantly, when they 
were together — talking to him on the subject. John 
always resented such reprimand and reproof with a great 
degree of passion, though they never quarreled, unless 
Thomas was intoxicated. 

In his fits of drunkenness, Thomas seemed to lose all 
his natural reason, and to conduct like a wild or crazy 
man, without regard to relatives, decency, or propriety. 
At such times he often threatened to take my life for hav- 
ing raised a witch, (as he called John,) and has gone so 
far as to raise his tomahawk to split my head. He, how- 
ever, never struck me ; but on John's account he struck 

* Although polygamy has prevailed to a limited extent among the 
Senecas in later times, it was prohibited in earlier days, and con- 
sidered disgraceful. — [En, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 143 

Hiokatoo, and thereby excited in John a high degree of 
indignation, which was extinguished only by blood. 

For a number of years their difficulties and consequent 
unhappiness continued, and rather increased, continually 
exciting in my breast the most fearful apprehensions, and 
greatest anxiety for their safety. With tears in my eyes 
I advised them to become reconciled to each other, and 
to be friendly ; told them the consequences of their con- 
tinuing to cherish so much malignity and malice — that 
it would end in their destruction, the disgrace of their 
families, and bring me down to the grave. No one can 
conceive of the constant trouble that I daily endured on 
their account — on the account of my two oldest sons, 
whom I loved equally, and with all the feelings and affec- 
tion of a tender mother, stimulated by an anxious concern 
for their fate. Parents, mothers especially, will love their 
children, though ever so unkind and disobedient. Their 
eyes of compassion, of real sentimental affection, will be 
involuntarily extended after them, in their greatest ex- 
cesses of iniquity; and those fine filaments of consan- 
guinity, which gently entwine themselves around the 
heart where filial love and parental care are equal, will be 
lengthened and enlarged to cords seemingly of sufficient 
strength to reach and reclaim the wanderer. I know that 
such exercises are frequently unavailing; but notwith- 
standing their ultimate failure, it still remains true, and 



144 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

ever will, that the love of a parent for a disobedient child 
will increase, and grow more and more ardent, so long as 
a hope of its reformation is capable of stimulating a dis- 
appointed breast. 

My advice and expostulations with my sons were 
abortive ; and year after year their disaffection for each 
other increased. At length, Thomas came to my house 
on the first day of July, 1811, in my absence, somewhat 
intoxicated, where he found John, with whom he imme- 
diately commenced a quarrel on their old subjects of dif- 
ference. John's anger became desperate. He caught 
Thomas by the hair of his head, and dragged him out of 
the door,, and there killed him, by a blow which he gave 
him on the head with his tomahawk. 

I returned soon after, and found my son lifeless at the 
door, on the spot where he was killed. No one can judge 
of my feelings on seeing this mournful spectacle; and 
what greatly added to my distress was thQ fact that he 
had fallen by the murderous hand of his brother. I felt 
my situation insupportable. Having passed through 
various scenes of trouble of the most cruel and trying 
kind, I had hoped to spend my few remaining days in 
quietude, and to die in peace, surrounded by my family. 
This fatal event, however, seemed to be a stream of woe 
poured into my cup of afflictions, filling it even to over- 
flowing, and blasting all my prospects. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 145 

As soon as I had recovered a little from the shock 
which I felt at the sight of my departed son, and some 
of the neighbors had come in to help take care of the 
corpse, I hired Shanks, an Indian, to go to Buffalo, and 
carry the sorrowful news of Thomas' death to our friends 
at that place, and request the chiefs to hold a council, 
and dispose of John as they should think proper. Shanks 
set out on his errand immediately, and John, fearing 
that he should be apprehended and punished for the crime 
he had committed, at the same time went off toward 
Caneadea. 

Thomas was decently interred in a style corresponding 
with his rank. 

The chiefs soon assembled in council on the trial of 
John, and after having seriously examined the matter 
according to their laws, justified his conduct, and acquitted 
him. They considered Thomas to have been the first 
transgressor; and that, for the abuses which he had 
offered, he had merited from John the treatment that he 
had received. John, on learning the decision of the 
council, returned to his family. 

Thomas, except when intoxicated, which was not fre- 
quent, was a kind and tender child, willing to assist me 
in my labor, and to remove every obstacle to my comfort. 
His natural abilities were said to be of a superior cast, 

and he soared above the trifling subjects of revenge which 
7 



146 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

are common among Indians, as being far beneath his 
attention. In his childish and boyish days, his natural 
turn was to practice in the art of war, though he despised 
the cruelties that the warriors inflicted upon their subju- 
gated enemies. He was manly in his deportment, cour- 
ageous, and active ; and commanded respect. Though he 
appeared well pleased with peace, he was cunning in In- 
dian warfare, and succeeded to admiration in the execu- 
tion of his plans. 

At the age of fourteen or fifteen years, he went into 
the war with manly fortitude, armed with a tomahawk 
and scalping-knife ; and, when he returned, brought one 
white man a prisoner, whom he had taken with his own 
hands, on the west branch of the Susquehanna River. 
It so happened, that as he was looking out for his enemies, 
he discovered two men boiling sap in the woods. He 
watched them unperceived till dark, when he advanced 
with a noiseless step to the place where they were stand- 
ing, caught one of them before they were apprised of 
danger, and conducted him to the camp. He was well 
treated while a prisoner, and redeemed at the close of 
the war. 

At the time Kaujisestaugeau gave me liberty to go to 
my friends, Thomas was anxious to go with me ; but as I 
have before observed, the chiefs would not suffer him to 
leave them, on the account of his courage and skill in war : 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 147 

expecting that they should need his assistance. He was 
a great counselor, and a chief when quite young ; and, in 
the last capacity, went two or three times to Philadelphia, 
to assist in making treaties with the people of the states. 

Thomas, at the time of his death, was a few moons 
over fifty-two years old. He was then living with his 
fourth wife, having lost three; by whom he had eight 
children. As he was naturally good-natured, and pos- 
sessed a friendly disposition, he would not have come to 
so untimely a death, had it not been for his intemperance. 
He fell a victim to the use of ardent spirits : a poison that 
will soon exterminate the Indian tribes in this part of the 
country, and leave their names without root or branch. 
The thought is melancholy ; but no arguments, no exam- 
ples, however persuasive or impressive, are sufficient to 
deter an Indian for an hour from taking the potent 
draught, which he knows at the time will derange his 
faculties, reduce him to a level with the brutes, or deprive 
him of life. 

Jacob Jemison, Thomas' second son by his last wife, 
who is at this time, 1823, twenty-seven or twenty-eight 
years of age, went to Dartmouth College, in the spring of 
1816, for the purpose of receiving an education, where it 
was said he was an industrious scholar, and made great 
proficiency in the study of the different branches of educa- 
tion to which he attended. Having spent two years in 



148 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 

that institution, lie returned in the winter of 1818, and is 
now at Buffalo, where I have understood he contemplates 
the study of medicine as a profession. 

In the month of November, 1811, my husband Hiok- 
atoo, who had been sick of consumption for four years, 
died at the advanced age of one hundred and three years, 
as nearly as the time could be estimated. He was the 
last that remained to me of our family connection, or 
rather of my old friends with whom I was adopted, except 
a part of one family, which now resides at Tonawanda. 

Hiokatoo was buried decently, and had all the insignia 
of a veteran warrior buried with him ; consisting of a 
war-club, tomahawk and scalping-knife, a powder-flask, 
flint, a piece of spunk, a small cake, and a cup ; and in 
his best clothing. 

According to the Indian mode of burial, the deceased 
is laid out in his best clothing, and put into a coffin of 
boards or bark; and with him is deposited, in every in- 
stance, a small cup and a cake. Generally two or three 
candles are put into the coffin, and in a few instances, at 
the burial of a great man, all his implements of war are 
buried by the side of the body. The coffin is then closed 
and carried to the grave. On its being let down, the per- 
son who takes the lead of the solemn transaction, or a 
chief, addresses the dead in a short speech, in which he 
charges him not to be troubled about himself in his new 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1 49 

situation, nor on his journey, and not to trouble his friends, 
wife, or children, whom he has left; tells him that, if he 
meets with strangers on his way, he must inform them 
what tribe he belongs to, who his relatives are, the situ- 
ation in which he left them ; and that, having done this, 
he must keep on till he arrives at the good fields in the 
country of Nauwaneu ; that, when he arrives there he 
will see all his ancestors and personal friends that have 
gone before him, who, together with all the chiefs of 
celebrity, will receive him joyfully, and furnish him with 
every article of perpetual happiness. 

The grave is now filled and left till evening, when some 
of the nearest relatives of the dead build a fire at the 
head of it, near which they sit till morning. In this way 
they continue to practice nine successive nights, when, 
believing that their departed friend has arrived at the end 
of his journey, they discontinue their attention. During 
this time the relatives of the deceased are not allowed to 
dance. 

Formerly, frolics were held for the dead, after the ex- 
piratio'n of nine days, at which all the squaws got drunk ; 
and those were the only occasions on which they were 
intoxicated : but lately those are discontinued, and squaws 
feel no delicacy in getting inebriated* 

* The religious system of tke Iroquois taught that it was a journey 
from earth to heaven, of many days' duration. Originally it was 



150 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

Hiokatoo was an old man when I first saw him ; but 
he was by no means enervated. During the time of nearly 
fifty years that I lived with him, I received, according to 
Indian customs, all the kindness and attention that was 
my due as his wife. Although war was his trade from 
his youth till old age and decrepitude stopped his career, 
he uniformly treated me with tenderness, and never of- 
fered an insult. 

supposed to be a year, and the period of mourning for the departed 
was fixed at that term. At its expiration it was customary for the 
relatives of the deceased to hold a feast — the soul of the departed 
having reached heaven, and a state of felicity, there was no longer any 
cause for mourning. In modern times the mourning period has been 
reduced to ten days, and the journey of the spirit is now believed to 
be performed in three. The spirit of the deceased was supposed to 
hover around the body for a season before it took its final departure ; 
and not until after the expiration of a year, according to the ancient be- 
lief, and ten days according to the present, did it become permanently at 
rest in heaven. A beautiful custom prevailed, in ancient times, of 
capturing a bird, and freeing it over the grave on the evening of the 
burial, to bear away the spirit to its heavenly rest. Their notions of the 
state of the soul when disembodied are vague and diversified ; but 
they all agree that, during the journey, it required the same nourish- 
ment as while it dwelt in the body. They, therefore, deposited beside 
the deceased his bow and arrows, tobacco and pipe, and necessary food 
for the journey. They also painted the face, and dressed the body in its 
best apparel. A fire was built upon the grave at night, to enable the 
spirit to prepare its food. With these tokens of affection, and these 
superstitious concernments for the welfare of the deceased, the children 
of the forest performed the burial rites of their departed kindred." — 
[League of the Iroquois, p. 114,. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 153 

I have frequently heard him repeat the history of his 
life from his childhood ; and when he came to that part 
which related to his actions, his bravery, and valor in 
war; when he spoke of the ambush, the combat, the spoil- 
ing of his enemies, and the sacrifice of his victims, ids 
nerves seemed strung with youthful ardor, the warmth of 
the able warrior seemed to animate his frame, and to pro- 
duce the heated gestures which he had practiced in mid- 
dle age. He was a man of tender feelings to his friends, 
ready and willing to assist them in distress, yet, as a war- 
rior, his cruelties to his enemies perhaps were unparal- 
leled, and will not admit a word of palliation* 
10 G 



152 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON, 



CHAPTER XI. 

Mary v s family troubles continue — John's enmity toward his brother 
Jesse — They quarrel — Whisky the cause — John murders 
Jesse — Jesse's funeral and character. 

Being now left a widow in my old age, to mourn the 
loss of a husband, who had treated me well, and with 
whom I had raised five children ; and having suffered the 
loss of an affectionate son, I fondly fostered the hope 
that my melancholy vicissitudes had ended, and that the 
remainder of my time would be characterized by nothing 
unpropitious. My children dutiful and kind, lived near 
me, and apparently nothing obstructed our happiness. 

But a short time, however, elapsed, after my husband's 
death, before my troubles were renewed with redoubled 
severity. 

John's hand having been once stained in the blood of a 
brother, although acquitted of murder by the chiefs, it was 
not strange that every person of his acquaintance should 
shun him, from a fear of his repeating upon them the 
same ceremony that he had practiced upon Thomas. My 
son Jesse went to Mount Morris, a few miles from home, 
on business, in the winter after the death of his father; 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 153 

and it so happened that his brother John was there, who 
requested Jesse to come home with him. Jesse, fearing 
that John would commence a quarrel with him on the 
way, declined the invitation, and tarried over night. 

From that time John conceived himself despised by 
Jesse, and was highly enraged at the treatment which he 
had received from him. Very little was said, however, 
and it all passed off apparently, till sometime in the month 
of May, 1812; at which time Mr. Robert Whaley, who 
lived in the town of Castile, within four miles of me, came 
to my house early on Monday morning, to hire George 
Chongo, my son-in-law, and John and Jesse, to go that 
day and help him slide a quantity of boards from the top 
of the hill to the river, where he calculated to build a 
raft of them for market. 

They all concluded to go with Mr. Whaley, and made 
ready as soon as possible. But before they set out, I 
charged them not to drink any whisky ; for I was confident 
that if they did, they would surely have a quarrel, in con- 
sequence of it. They went and worked till almost night, 
when a quarrel ensued between Chongo and Jesse, in con- 
sequence of the whisky which they had drank through 
the day, which terminated in a battle, and Chongo got 
whipped. 

When Jesse had got through with Chongo, he told Mr. 

Whaley that he would go home, and directly went off. 

7* 



154 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

He, however, went but a few rods, before he stopped and 
lay down by the side of a log to wait, as was sup- 
posed, for company. John, as soon as Jesse was gone, 
went to Mr. Whaley, with his knife in his hand, and bade 
him jogo; i. e., be gone; at the same time telling him that 
Jesse was a bad man. Mr. Whaley, seeing that his coun- 
tenance exhibited a demon-like malignity, and that he 
was determined upon something desperate, was alarmed for 
his own safety, and turned toward home, leaving Chongo 
on the ground drunk, near to where Jesse had laid, who 
by this time had got up, and was advancing toward John. 
Mr. Whaley was soon out of hearing of them ; but some 
of his workmen stayed till it was dark. Jesse came up to 
John, and said to him, " You want more whisky, and 
more fighting," and after a few words went at him, to try 
in the first place to get away his knife. In this he did 
not succeed, and they parted. By this time the night had 
come on, and it was dark. Again they clenched, and at 
length in their struggle they both fell. John, having his 
knife in his hand, came under ; and in this situation gave 
Jesse a fatal stab with his knife, and repeated the blows till 
Jesse, crying out "Brother you have killed me," quit his 
hold, and settled back upon the ground. Upon hearing 
this, John left him, came to Thomas' widow's house, told 
them that he had been fighting with their uncle, whom he 
killed, and showed them his knife. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 155 

Next morning, as soon as it was light, Thomas' and 
John's children came and told me that Jesse was dead 
in the woods, and also informed me how he came by his 
death. John soon followed them, and informed me him- 
self of all that had taken place between him and his 
brother, and seemed to be somewhat sorrowful for his con- 
duct. You can better imagine what my feelings were 
than I can describe them. Sly darling son — my youngest 
child — him on whom I depended — was dead; and I, in 
my old age, left destitute of a helping hand ! 

As soon as it was consistent for me, I got Sir. George 
Jemison (of whom I shall have occasion to speak,) to go 
with his sleigh to where Jesse was, and bring him home — 
a distance of three or four miles. My daughter Polly 
arrived at the fatal spot first; we got there soon after 
her, though I went the whole distance on foot. By this 
time, Chongo, who was left on the ground drunk the 
night before, had become sober, and sensible of the great 
misfortune which had happened to our family. 

I was overcome with grief at the sight of my murdered 
son, and so far lost the command of myself as to be al- 
most frantic ; and those who were present were obliged 
to hold me from going near him. 

On examining the body, it was found that it had re- 
ceived eighteen wounds, so deep and large that it was 
believed that either of them would have proved mortal. 



156 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 

The corpse was carried to my house, and kept till the 
Thursday following, when it was buried after the manner 
of burying white people. 

Jesse was twenty-seven or eight years old when he was 
killed. His temper had been uniformly very mild and 
friendly; and he was inclined to copy after the white 
people, both in his manners and dress. Although he was 
naturally temperate, he occasionally became intoxicated ; 
but never was quarrelsome or mischievous. With the 
white people he was intimate, and learned from them 
their habits of industry, which he was fond of practicing, 
especially when my comfort demanded his labor. As I 
have observed, it is the custom among the Indians for 
the women to perform all the labor in and out of doors, 
and I had the whole to do, with the help of my daughters, 
till Jesse arrived to a sufficient age to assist us. He was 
disposed to labor in the cornfield, to chop my wood, milk 
my cows, and attend to any kind of business that would 
make my task the lighter. On the account of his having 
been my youngest child, and so willing to help me, I am 
sensible that I loved him better than I did either of my 
other children. After he began to understand my situ- 
ation, and the means of rendering it more easy, I never 
wanted for anything that was in his power to bestow ; 
but since his death, as I have had all my labor to perform 
alone, I have constantly seen hard times. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS, 157 

Jesse shunned the company of his brothers, and the 
Indians generally and never attended their frolics ; and 
it was supposed that this, together with my partiality for 
him, were the causes which excited in John so great a de- 
gree of envy that nothing short of death would satisfy it.* 

* "Soon after the War of 1812, an altercation occurred between 
David Reese, (who was at that time the government blacksmith for 
the Senecas, upon the reservation near Buffalo,) and a Seneca Indian 
called Young King, which resulted in a severe blow with a scythe, 
inflicted by Reese, which nearly severed one of the Indian's arms ; so 
near, in fact, that amputation was immediately resorted to. The cir- 
cumstance created considerable excitement among the Indians, which 
extended to Gardeau, the then home of the Jemison family. John 
Jemison headed a party from there, and went to Buffalo, giving out, aa 
he traveled along the road, that he was going to kill Reese. The 
author saw him on his way, and recollects how well he personated the 
ideal " Angel of Death." His weapons were the war-club and the 
tomahawk; red paint was daubed on his swarthy face, and long 
bunches of horse-hair, colored red, were dangling from each arm. 
His warlike appearance was well calculated to give an earnest to his 
threats. Reese was kept secreted, and thus, in all probability, avoided 
the fate that even kindred had met at the hands of John Jemison." — - 
[Turner's History op the Holland Purchase, p. 295. 



158 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Mary's pretended cousin, George Jemison — His poverty — Her kind- 
ness and assistance — His ingratitude — Attempt to defraud her of 
a part of her Reservation — Is expelled from the premises. 

A year or two before the death of my husband, Capt. 
H. Jones sent me word that a cousin of mine was then 
living on Genesee Flats, by the name of George Jemison; 
and as he was very poor, thought it advisable for me to 
go and see him, and take him home to live with me on 
my land. My Indian friends were pleased to hear that 
one of my relatives was so near, and also advised me to 
send for him and his family immediately. I accordingly 
had him and his family moved into one of my houses, in 
the month of March, 1810. 

He said that he was my father's brother's son — that 
his father did not leave Europe till after the French war 
in America, and that when he did come over, he settled in 
Pennsylvania, where he died. George had no personal 
knowledge of my father ; but from information, was con- 
fident that the relationship which he claimed between 
himself and me actually existed. Although I had never 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 159 

before heard of my father haying had but one brother, 
(him who was killed at Fort Necessity,) yet I knew that 
he might have had others ; and, as the story of George 
carried with it a probability that it was true, I received 
him as a kinsman, and treated him with every degree of 
friendship which his situation demanded. 

I found that he was destitute of the means of subsist- 
ence, and in debt to the amount of seventy dollars, with- 
out the ability to pay one cent. He had no cow, and 
finally was completely poor. I paid his debts to the 
amount of seventy-two dollars, and bought him a cow, for 
which I paid twenty dollars ; and a sow and pigs, that I 
paid eight dollars for. I also paid sixteen dollars for 
pork which I gave him, and furnished him with other 
provisions and furniture ; so that his family was comfort- 
able. As he was destitute of a team, I furnished him 
with one, and also supplied him with tools for farming. 
In addition to all this, I let him have one of Thomas' 
cows, for two seasons. 

My only object in mentioning his poverty, and the 
articles with which I supplied him, is to show how 
ungrateful a person can be for favors received, and how 
soon they will apparently forget charitable deeds, and 
conspire against the interest of a benefactor. 

Thus furnished with the necessary implements of hus- 
bandry, a good team, and as much land as he could till, 

G* 



160 LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 

he commenced farming on my flats, and for some time 
labored well. At length, however, he got an idea that if 
he could become the owner of a part of my reservation, 
he could live more easily, and certainly be more rich ; and 
accordingly set himself about laying a plan to obtain it, 
in the easiest manner possible. 

I supported Jemison and his family eight years, and 
probably should have continued to have done so to this 
day, had it not been for the occurrence of the following 
circumstance : 

When he had lived with me some six or seven years, a 
friend of mine told me that as Jemison was my cousin, 
and very poor, I ought to give him a piece of land, that 
he might have something whereon to live that he could 
call his own. My friend and Jemison were then together 
at my house, prepared to complete a bargain. I asked 
how much land he w r anted ? Jemison said that he should 
be glad to receive his own field, (as he called it,) contain- 
ing about fourteen acres, and a new one that contained 
twenty-six. I observed to them that as I was incapable 
of transacting business of that nature, I would wait till 
Mr. Thomas Olute, (a neighbor on whom I depended,) 
should return from Albany, before I should do anything 
about it. To this Jemison replied, that if I waited till 
Mr. Clute returned, he should not get the land at all ; and 
appeared very anxious to have the business closed with 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 161 

out delay. On my part, I felt disposed to give him some 
land ; but knowing my ignorance of writing, feared to do 
it alone, lest they might include as much land as they 
pleased, without my knowledge. 

They then read the deed, which my friend had prepared 
before he came from home, describing a piece of land by 
certain bounds that were a specified number of chains 
and links from each other. Not understanding the length 
of a chain or link, I described the bounds of a piece of 
land that I intended Jemison should have, which they 
said was just the same that the deed contained, and no 
more. I told them that the deed must not include a lot 
that was called the Steele place, and they assured me 
that it did not. Upon this — putting confidence in them 
both — I signed the deed to George Jemison, containing, 
and conveying to him, as I supposed, forty acres of land. 
The deed being completed, they charged me never to 
mention the bargain which I had then made to any per- 
son ; because if I did, they said, it would spoil the con- 
tract. The whole matter was afterward disclosed ; when 
it was found that that deed, instead of eontaiDing only 
forty acres, contained four hundred, and that one-half of 
it actually belonged to my friend, as it had been given to 
him by Jemison, as a reward for his trouble in procuring 
the deed in the fraudulent manner above mentioned. 

My friend, however, by the advice of some well-disposed 



162 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

people, a while afterward gave up his claim. George 
Jemison, however, held on to his claim; but knowing 
that he had no title to the land — even if I had then 
possessed the power of conveying, which it since appears 
that I did not — as the deed was void, having been ob- 
tained by falsehood and fraud, he dared not press his 
claims under it himself, for fear of being punished for a 
misdemeanor. He therefore sold his claim for a mere 
trifle, to a gentleman in the south part of Genesee county, 
who lost that trifle, whatever it was. But had Jemison 
been content with getting a deed of the forty acres which 
I intended to have given him, and not have undertaken to 
defraud me out of more, I should have made his title 
good to that land when I did receive the power ; and the 
forty acres would have been worth to him from forty to 
fifty dollars per acre. This is another proof that, in all 
cases, " honesty is the best policy." 

Some time after the death of my son Thomas, one of 
his sons went to Jemison to get the cow that I had let 
him have for two years ; but Jemison refused to let her 
go, and struck the boy so violent a blow as to almost kill 
him. Jemison then ran to Jellis Clute, Esq., to procure 
a warrant to take the boy ; but Young King, an Indian 
chief, went down to Squawky Hill, to Mr. Clute's, and 
settled the affair, by Jemison's agreeing never to use that 
club again. Having satisfactorily found out the unfriendly 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 163 

disposition of my cousin toward me, I got Mm off my 
premises as soon as possible. 

I am now confident that George Jemison is not my 
cousin, but that he claimed relationship only to obtain 
assistance. 



164 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

John Jemison murdered — His funeral, life, and character — His widow 
and children — His murderers flee — Tall Chief's speech — They 
return — Their fate. 

Trouble seldom comes single. ^Yhile George Jemison 
was busily engaged in his pursuit of wealth at my ex- 
pense, another event of a much more serious nature 
occurred, which added greatly to my afflictions, and con- 
sequently. destroyed at least a part of the happiness which 
I had anticipated was laid up in the archives of Provi- 
dence, to be disposed of on my old age. 

My son John was a doctor, considerably celebrated 
among the Indians of various tribes for his skill in curing 
their diseases, by the administration of roots and herbs, 
which he gathered in the forests, and other places, where 
they had been planted by the hand of Nature. 

In the month of April, or first of May, 1817, he was 
called upon to go to Buffalo, Cattaraugus, and Alleghany, 
to cure some who were sick. He went, and was absent 
about two months. When he returned, he observed the 
Great Slide of the bank of Genesee River, a short dis- 
tance above my house, which had taken place during his 







THE MURDER OF ONE OF HER SONS, BY HIS BROTHER. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 167 

absence ; and, considering that circumstance to be omi- 
nous of his own death, called at his sister Nancy's, told 
her that he should live but a few days, and wept bitterly 

.he near approach of his dissolution. Nancy endeav- 
ored to persuade him that his trouble was imaginary, and 
that he ought not to be affected by a fancy which was 
visionary. Her arguments were ineffectual, and afforded 
no alleviation to his mental sufferings. 

From his sister's he went to his own house, where he 
stayed only two nights, and then went to Squawky Hill, 
to procure money, with which to purchase flour for the 
use of his family. 

While at Squawky Hill he got into the company of two 
Squawky Hill Indians, whose names were Doctor and 
Jack, with whom he drank freely, and in the afternoon 
had a desperate quarrel, in which his opponents, as it 
was afterward understood, agreed to kill him. The quar- 
rel ended, and each appeared to be friendly. John bought 
some spirits, of which they all drank, and then set out for 
home. John and an Alleghany Indian were on horseback, 
and Doctor and Jack were on foot. It was dark when 
they set out. They had not proceeded far when Doctor 
and Jack commenced another quarrel with John, clenched 
and dragged him off his horse, and then with a stone gave 
hirn so severe a blow on his head that some of his brains 
were discharged from the wound. The Alleghany Indian, 



16S LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

fearing that his turn would come next, fled for safety as 
fast as possible. 

John recovered a little from the shock he had received 
and endeavored to get to an old hut that stood near ; but 
they caught him, and with an ax cut his throat, and 
beat out his brains, so that when he was found, the con- 
tents of his skull were lying on his arms. 

Some squaws who heard the uproar, ran to find out the 
cause of it ; but before they had time to offer their assist- 
ance, the murderers drove them into a house, and threat- 
ened to take their lives if they did not stay there, or if 
they made any noise. 

Next morning Mr. Clute sent me word that John was 
dead; and also informed me of the means by which his 
life was taken. A number of people went from Gardeau 
to where the body lay, and Dr. Levi Brundridge brought 
it home, where the funeral was attended after the manner 
of the white people. Mr. Benjamin Luther and Mr. William 
Wiles preached sermons and performed the funeral ser- 
vices ; and myself and family followed the corpse to the 
grave as mourners. I had now buried my three sons, 
who had been snatched from me by the hands of violence, 
when I least expected it. 

Although John had taken the life of his two brothers, 
and caused me unspeakable trouble and grief, his death 
made a solemn impression upon my mind, and seemed, in 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS, 169 

addition to my former misfortune?, enough to bring down 
my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Yet, on a sec- 
ond thought. I could not mourn for him as I had for my 
other sons, because I knew that his death was just, and 
what he had deserved for a long time, from the hand of 
justice. 

John's vices were so great and so aggravated that I 
have nothing to say in his favor ; yet, as a mother, I pit- 
ied him while he lived, and have ever felt a great degree 
of sorrow for him, because of his bad conduct. 

From his childhood, he carried something in his fea- 
tures indicative of an evil disposition, that would result 
in the perpetration of enormities of some kind; and it 
was the opinion and saying of Ebenezer Allen that he 
would be a bad man, and be guilty of some crime deserv- 
ing of death. There is no doubt but what thoughts of 
murder rankled in his breast, and disturbed his mind even 
in his sleep ; for he once dreamed that he had killed 
Thomas for a trifling offense, and thereby forfeited his 
own life. Alarmed at the revelation, and fearing that he 
might in some unguarded moment destroy his brother, he 
went to the Black Chief, to whom he told the dream, and 
expressed his fears that the vision would be verified. 
Having related the dream, together with his feelings on 
the subject, he asked for the best advice that his old 

friend was capable of giving, to prevent so sad an event. 
11 



170 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

The Black Chief, with his usual promptitude, told him, 
that from the nature of the dream he was fearful that 
something serious would take place between him and 
Thomas; and advised him by all means to govern his 
temper, and avoid any quarrel which in future he might 
see arising, especially if Thomas was a party. John, 
however, did not keep the good counsel of the chief; for, 
soon after he killed Thomas, as I have related. 

John left two wives, with whom he had lived at the 
same time, and raised nine children. His widows are now 
living at Canneada, with their father, and keep their chil- 
dren with and near them. His children are tolerably 
white, and have got light-colored hair. John died about 
the last day of June, 1817, aged fifty-four years. 

Doctor and Jack, having finished their murderous de- 
sign, fled before they could be apprehended, and lay six 
weeks in the woods back of Canisteo. They then re- 
turned, and sent me some wampum by Chongo, my son- 
in-law, and Sun-ge-gaw,* that is, Big Kettle, expecting 

*"The greatest of all human crimes, murder, was punished with 
death ; but the act was open to condonation. Unless the family were 
appeased, the murderer, as with the ancient Greeks, was given up to 
their private vengeance. They could take his life wherever they found 
him, even after the lapse of years, without being held accountable. A 
present of white wampum sent on the part of the murderer to the 
family of his victim, when accepted, forever obliterated the memory of, 
the transaction."— [League of the Iroquois, p. 331. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 171 

that I would pardon them, and suffer them to live as they 
had done with their tribe. I, however, would not accept 
their wampum, but requested that, rather than have them 
killed, they would run away and keep out of danger. 

On their receiving back the wampum, they took my 
advice, and prepared to leave their country and people 
immediately. Their relatives accompanied them a short 
distance on their journey, and when about to part, their 
old uncle, the Tall Chief, addressed them in the following 
pathetic and sentimental speech : 

"Friends, hear my voice! When the Great Spirit 
made Indians, he made them all good, and gave them 
ail good cornfields ; good rivers, well stored with fish ; 
good forests, filled with game, and good bows and arrows. 
But very soon each wanted more than his share, and In- 
dians quarreled with Indians, and some were killed, and 
others were wounded. Then the Great Spirit made a 
very good word, and put it in every Indian's breast, to 
tell us when we have done good, or when we have done 
bad — -and that word has never told a lie. 

"Friends! whenever you have stole, or got drunk, or 
lied, that good word has told you that you were bad 
Indians, and made you afraid of good Indians; and made 
you ashamed, and look down. 

" Friends ! your crime is greater than all those ; you 



172 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

have killed an Indian in a time of peace ; and made the 
wind hear his groans, and the earth drink his blood. You 
are bad Indians ! Yes, yon are very bad Indians ; and 
what can you do ? If you go into the woods to live 
alone, the ghost of John Jemison will follow you, crying 
" Blood! blood! " and will give you no peace. If you 
go to the land of your nation, there that ghost will at- 
tend you, and say to your relatives, " See my murderers ! " 
If you plant, it will blast your corn ; if you hunt it will 
scare your game ; and when you are asleep, its groans, 
and the sight of an avenging tomahawk, will awake you ! 
"What can you do I Deserving of death, you can not 
live here ; and to fly from your country, to leave all 
your relatives, and to abandon all that you have known 
to be pleasant and dear, must be keener than an arrow, 
more bitter than gall, more terrible than death ! And 
how must we feel? Your path will be muddy; the 
woods will be dark ; the lightnings will glance down the 
trees by your side, and you will start at every sound ! 
Peace has left you, and you must be wretched. 

"Friends, hear me, and take my advice. Eeturn with 
us to your homes. Offer to the Great Spirit your best 
wampum, and try to be good Indians. And if those 
whom you have bereaved shall claim your lives as their 
only satisfaction, surrender them cheerfully, and die like 
good Indians. And — " 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 173 

Here Jack, highly incensed, interrupted the old man, 
and bade him stop speaking, or he would take his life. 
Affrighted at the appearance of so much desperation, the 
company hastened toward home, and left Doctor and 
Jack to consult their own feelings. 

As soon as they were alone, Jack said to Doctor, " I 
had rather die here than leave my country and friends. 
Put the muzzle of your rifle into my mouth, and I will 
put the muzzle of mine into yours, and at a given signal 
we will discharge them, and rid ourselves at once of all 
the troubles under which we now labor, and satisfy the 
claims which justice holds against us." 

Doctor heard the proposition, and, after a moment's 
pause, made the following reply : "I am as sensible as 
you can be of the unhappy situation in which we have 
placed ourselves. We are bad Indians. "We have for- 
feited our lives, and must expect in some way to atone 
for our crime. But, because we are bad and miserable, 
shall we make ourselves worse ? If we were now inno- 
cent, and in a calm, reflecting moment should kill our- 
selves, that act would make us bad, and deprive us of 
our share of the good hunting in the land where our 
fathers have gone ! What would Little Beard say to us 
on our arrival at his cabin ? He would say, * Bad In- 
dians ! Cowards ! You were afraid to wait till we 
wanted your help ! Go (jogo) to where snakes will lie 



174 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

in your path ; where the panthers will starve you by de- 
vouring the venison ; and where you will be naked, and 
suffer with the cold ! Jogo ! (go,) none but the brave and 
good Indians live here.' I can not think of performing 
an act that will add to my wretchedness. It is hard 
enough for me to suffer here, and have good hunting here- 
after — worse, to lose the whole." 

Upon this, Jack withdrew his proposal. They went 
on about two miles, and then turned about and came 
home. Guilty and uneasy, they lurked about Squawky 
Hill near a fortnight, and then went to Cattaraugus, and 
were gone six weeks. When they came back, Jack's wife 
earnestly requested him to remove his family to Tona- 
wanda; but he remonstrated against her project, and 
utterly declined going. His wife and family, however, tired 
of the tumult by which they were surrounded, packed up 
their effects, in spite of what he could say, and went off. 
Jack deliberated a short time upon the proper course for 
himself to pursue ; and finally, rather than leave his old 
home, he ate a large quantity of muskrat root, and died 
in ten or twelve hours. His family, being immediately 
notified of his death, returned to attend the burial, and 
are yet living at Squawky Hill. 

Nothing was ever done with Doctor, who continued to 
live quietly at Squawky Hill till some time in the year 
1819, when he died of consumption, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 175 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Mary sells part of her reservation — The hardships of her life — Great 
strength of constitution — Her temperance — Destructive effects 
of ardent spirits among the Senecas — Witchcraft — Accusations 
against her — Executions for witchcraft — Her descendants. 

Ix the year 1816, Micah Brooks, Esq.. of Bloomfield, 
Ontario county, and Jellis Clute, Esq., of Leicester, 
began to negociate with me for the purchase of a part of 
my land, as it lay in an unproductive state to me. Many 
obstacles presented themselves in the transaction of the 
business. In the first place, it was objected that I was 
not a citizen of the United States, and could not legally 
convey land, without a special act of the legislature. 
To surmount this difficulty, Messrs. Brooks and Clute 
procured a special act of the legislature of this state to 
be passed, conferring naturalization on me, and confirming 
my title to the land as far as that body could effect it. 
It was then discovered that the - assent of the chiefs of 
the Seneca nation must be had to the conveyance, and 
that the proceedings to obtain such assent must be in 
council, under the superintendence of a commissioner 
appointed by the President of the United States. 



176 LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 

After much delay and vexation in ascertaining what 
was necessary to be done to effect the object in a legal 
manner, and having consulted my children and friends, in 
the winter of 1822-3, I agreed with Messrs. Brooks and 
Clute, that if they would get the chiefs of our nation, 
and a United States commissioner of Indian lands, to 
meet in Moscow, Livingston county, N. Y., I would sell 
to them all my right and title to the Gardeau reservation, 
containing 17,927 acres, with the exception of a tract for 
my own benefit, two miles long and one mile wide, lying 
on Genesee Eiver, where I should choose it; and also 
reserving a lot I had promised to give to Thomas Clute, 
as a recompense for his faithful guardianship over me and 
my property for a long time. 

The arrangement was agreed to, and the council assem- 
bled on the third or fourth day of September last, at the 
place appointed, consisting of Major Carrol, Judge Howell, 
and N. Gorham, acting for and in behalf of the United 
States government ; Jasper Parish, Indian agent; Horatio 
Jones, interpreter; and a large number of Seneca chiefs. 

The bargain was assented to unanimously, and a deed 
was executed and delivered by me and upward of twenty 
chiefs, conveying all my right and title to the Gardeau 
reservation, except the reservations before mentioned, to 
Henry B. Gibson, Micah Brooks, and Jellis Clute, their 
heirs and assigns forever. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 177 

The tract which I reserved for myself begins at the 
center of the Great Slide; thence running west one mile; 
thence north two miles ; thence east about a mile to the 
river; and thence running southerly up the river; and 
bounding on the west bank to the place of beginning. 

In consideration of the before-mentioned sale to Messrs. 
Gibson, Brooks, and Clute, among other things, they 
bound themselves, their heirs, assigns, etc., to pay to me, 
my heirs or successors, three hundred dollars a year 
forever. 

When I review my life, the privations that I have suf- 
fered, the hardships I have endured, the vicissitudes I 
have passed, and the complete revolution that I have 
experienced in my manner of living ; when I consider my 
reduction from a civilized to a savage state, and the 
various steps by which that process has been effected, and 
that my life has been prolonged, and my health and rea- 
son spared, it seems a miracle that I am unable to account 
for, and is a tragical medley that I hope will never be 
repeated. The bare loss of liberty is but a mere trifle, 
when compared with the circumstances that necessarily 
attend, and are inseparably connected with it. It is the 
recollection of what we once were, of the friends, the 
home we have left, and the pleasures that we have lost; 
the anticipation of misery, the appearance of wretched- 
ness, the anxiety for freedom, the hope of release, the 

H 



178 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

devising of means of escaping, and the vigilance with 
which we watch our keepers, that constitute the nauseous 
dregs of the bitter cup of slavery. I am sensible, how- 
ever, that no one can pass from a state of freedom to that 
of slavery, and in the latter situation rest perfectly con- 
tented; but as every one knows that great exertions of 
the mind tend directly to debilitate the body, it will 
appear obvious that we ought, when confined, to exert 
all our faculties to promote our present comfort, and let 
future days provide their own sacrifices. In regard to 
ourselves, just as we feel, we are. 

For the preservation of my life to the present time I 
am indebted to an excellent constitution, with which I 
have been blessed in as great a degree as any other per- 
son. After I arrived to years of understanding, the care 
of my own health was one of my principal studies ; and 
by avoiding exposures to wet and cold, by temperance in 
eating, abstaining from the use of spirits, and shunning 
the excesses to which I was frequently exposed, I effected 
my object beyond what I expected. I have never once 
been sick till within a year or two, only as I have related. 

Spirits and tobacco I have never used, and I have 
never once attended an Indian frolic. When I was taken 
prisoner, and for some time after that, spirits were un- 
known among the Indians ; and when they were first intro- 
duced, it was in small quantities, and used only by the 



DEH-IIE-WA-MIS. 179 

Indians ; so that it was a long time before the Indian 
women began even to taste it. 

After the French war, for a number of years it was 
the practice .of the Indians of our tribe t© send to Niag- 
ara and get two or three kegs of rum — in all six or eight 
gallons — and hold a frolic as long as it lasted. When 
the rum was brought to the town, all the Indians col- 
lected, and before a drop was drank, gave all their knives, 
tomahawks, guns, and other instruments of war, to one 
Indian, whose business it was to bury them in a private 
place, keep them concealed, and remain perfectly sober 
till the frolic was ended. Having thus divested them- 
selves, they commenced drinking, and continued their 
frolic till every drop was consumed. If any of them 
became quarrelsome, or got to fighting, those who were 
sober enough bound them upon the ground, where they 
were obliged to lie till they got sober, and then were un- 
bound. When the fumes of the spirits had left the com- 
pany, the sober Indi&n returned to each the instruments 
with which they had entrusted him, and all went home 
satisfied. A frolic of that kind was held but once a year, 
and that at the time the Indians quit their hunting, and 
came in with their deer-skins. 

In those frolics the women never participated. Soon 
after the Revolutionary War, however, spirits became 
common in our tribe, and have been used indiscriminately 



180 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

by both sexes ; though there are not so frequent instances 
of intoxication among the squaws as among the Indians. 

To the introduction and use of that baneful article 
which has made such devastation in our tribes, and 
threatens the extinction of our people, (the Indians,) I 
can with the greatest propriety impute the whole of my 
misfortune in losing my three sons. But as I have before 
observed, not even the love of life will restrain an Indian 
from sipping the poison that he knows will destroy him. 
The voice of nature, the rebukes of reason, the advice of 
parents, the expostulations of friends, and the numerous 
instances of sudden death, are all insufficient to restrain 
an Indian who has once experienced the exhilarating and 
inebriating effects of spirits, from seeking his grave in 
the bottom of the bottle. 

My strength has been great for a woman of my size ; 
otherwise I must long ago have died under the burdens 
which I was obliged to carry. I learned to carry loads 
on my back, supported by a strap placed across my fore- 
head, soon after my captivity; and continue to carry in 
the same way. Upward of thirty years ago, and with 
the help of my young children, I backed all the boards 
that were used about my house from Allen's mill at the 
outlet of Silver Lake, a distance of five miles. I have 
planted, hoed, and harvested corn every season but 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1S1 

one since I was taken prisoner. Even this present 
fall. 1823, I have husked my corn, and backed it into the 
house. 

The first cow that I ever owned, I bought of a squaw 
sometime after the E evolution. It had been stolen from 
the enemy. I had owned it but a few days when it fell 
into a hole, and almost died before we could get it out. 
After this, the squaw wanted to be recanted; but as I 
would not give up the cow, I gave her money enough to 
make, when added to the sum which I paid her at first, 
thirty-five dollars. Cows were plenty on the Ohio, when 
I lived there, and of good quality. 

For provisions, I have never suffered since I came 
upon the flats; nor have I ever been indebted to any 
other hands than my own for the plenty that I have 
shared. 

I have never been accused of many vices. Some of 
my children had light-brown hair, and tolerably fair skin, 
which used to make some people say that I stole them; 
yet, as I was ever conscious of my own constancy, I never 
thought that any one really believed that I was guilty of 
adultery. It was believed for a long time, by some of 
our people, that I was a great witch; but they were una- 
ble to prove my guilt, and consequently I escaped the 
certain doom of those who are convicted of that crime, 



IS2 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

which, by the Indians, is considered as heinous as 
murder. 

The term in the Seneca language meaning witch ap- 
plies equally to both sexes. They believe that there are 
many witches* and that, next to the author of evil, they 
are the greatest scourge to the people. The term denotes 
a person to whom the evil deity has delegated power to 
inflict diseases, cause death, blast corn, bring bad weather, 
and, in short, to cause almost any calamity to which they 
are liable. With this impression, and believing that it is 
their actual duty to destroy, as far as is in their power, 
every source of unhappiness, it has been a custom among 
them from time immemorial, to destroy every one that 
they could convict of so heinous a crime; and in fact 
there is no reprieve from the sentence. 

Executions for witchcraft are not an uncommon occur- 
rence. More or less, charged with being witches, have 
been executed in almost every year I have lived on the 
Genesee. Many, on being suspected, made their escape; 
while others, before they were aware of being implicated, 
have been apprehended and brought to trial. A number 
of years ago, an Indian chased a squaw, near Little 
Beard's Town, and caught her ; but on account of her 
great strength she got away. The Indian, vexed and 
disappointed, went home, and the next day reported that 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 183 

he saw her have fire in her mouth, and that she was a 
witch. Upon this she was apprehended and killed imme- 
diately. She was Bigtree's cousin. I was present at 
that execution, and also saw another who had been con- 
victed of being a witch, killed, and thrown into the river. 
Thus, from the most trifling causes, thousands have lost 
their lives through the superstitious fanaticism of the 
pagan Indians, for they will not " suffer a witch to live." 

I have been the mother of eight children; — three of 
whom are now living, — and I have at this time thirty-nine 
grand-children, and fourteen great-grand-children all 
living in the neighborhood of Genesee Eiver, and at 
Buffalo. 

I live in my own house, and on my own land, with my 
youngest daughter, Polly, who is married to George Chon- 
go, and has three children. 

My daughter Xancy, who is married to Billy Green, 
lives about eighty rods south of my house, and has seven 
children. 

My other daughter, Betsey, is married to John Green, 
has seven children, and resides eighty rods north of my 
house. 

Thus situated in the midst of my children, I expect I 
shall soon leave the world, and make room for the rising 
generation. I feel the weight of years with which I am 
loaded, and am sensible of my daily failure, in seeing, 



184 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

hearing, and strength; but my only anxiety is for my 
family. If my family will live happily, and I can be ex- 
empted from trouble while I have to stay. I feel as 
though I could lay down in peace, a life that has been 
checked in almost every hour, with troubles of a deeper 
dye than are commonly experienced by mortals. 



DEH-HE-WA-MI3. 185 



CHAPTER XV * 

Life of Hi-ok-a-too, half-brother of Farmer's Brother — Naturally cru- 
el — Inroad upon the Catawbas in Tennessee — Present at Brad- 
dock's defeat — Battle of Fort Freeland — Expedition to Cherry 
Yalley — His barbarity — Battle at Upper Sandnsky — Colonel 
Crawford taken, and burned at the stake — Dr. Knight's escape — 
Hi-ok-a-too leads a war-party against the Cherokees — His personal 
appearance — Dies of old age. 

Hiokatoo was born on the banks of the Susquehanna, 
in the year 1708, in one of the tribes of the Senecas 
which inhabited that region at the time of his birth. He 
was own cousin to Farmer's Brother, a chief who had 
been justly celebrated for his worth. Their mothers were 
sisters, and it was through the influence of Farmer's Bro 
ther that I became Hiokatoo 's wife. 

In early life he showed signs of thirst for blood, by at 
tending only to the art of war, in the use of the toma- 
hawk and scalping-knife, and in practicing cruelties upon 
everything that chanced to fall into his hands which was 
susceptible of pain. In that way he learned to use his 
implements of war effectually, and at the same time 

* This chapter was added by Ebenezer Mix 

12 h w 



186 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

blunted all those finer feelings and tender sympathies that 
are naturally excited by hearing or seeing a fellow-being 
in distress. He could inflict the most excruciating tor- 
tures upon his enemies, and prided himself upon his forti- 
tude in having performed the most barbarous ceremonies 
and tortures without the least degree of pity or remorse. 
Thus qualified, when very young he was initiated into 
scenes of carnage by being engaged in the wars that pre- 
vailed among the Indian tribes. 

When he was a young man, there lived in the same 
tribe with him an old Indian warrior who was a great 
counselor, by the name of Buck-in-je-hil-lish. Buckinje- 
hillish having, with great fatigue, attended the council 
when it was deliberating upon war, declared that none 
but the ignorant made war, and that the wise men and 
the warriors had to do the fighting. This speech exas- 
perated his countrymen to such a degree that he was ap- 
prehended and tried for being a witch, on the account of 
his having lived to so advanced an age ; and because he 
could not show some reason why he had not died before, 
he was sentenced to be tomahawked by a boy on the 
spot, which was accordingly done. 

In 1731, Hiokatoo was appointed a runner, to assist in 
collecting an army to go against the Catawbas, Chero- 
kees, and other southern Indians. A large army was col- 
lected, and after a long and fatiguing march, met its ene- 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 1S7 

mies in what was then called the "low, dark, and bloody 
lands/'' near the month of Red River, in what is now called 
the state of Tennessee, at or near the site of the present vil- 
lage of Clarksville, in the county of Montgomery. The 

Gatawbas and their associates had. by some means, been 
apprised of their approach, and lay in ambush to take 
them at once, when they should come within their reach, 
and destroy the whole army. The northern Indians, with 
their usual sagacity, discovered the situation of their ene- 
-v. rushed upon the ambuscade, and massacred twelve 
hundred on the spot. The battle continued for two days 
and two nights with the utmost severity, in which the 
northern Indians were victorious, and so far succeeded in 
destroying the Gatawbas that they at that time ceased to 
be a nation. The victors suffered an immense loss in 
killed: bur gained the hunting-ground, which was their 
grand object, though the Cherokees would not give it up 
in a treaty, or consent to make peace. Bows and arrows 
at that time were generally used as implements of Indian 
warfare, although a few guns had been introduced. 

From that time he was engaged in a number of battles, 
in which, as in the Catawba and Cherokee wars, Indians 
only were engaged, and made fighting his business till the 
commencement of the French war. In those battles he 
took a number of Indians prisoners, whom he killed by 
tying them to trees, and setting small Indian boys to 



188 LIFE OF MARY JEMISOX. 

shooting at them with arrows, till death finished the mis- 
ery of the sufferers ; a process that frequently took two 
days for completion. 

During the French war he was in every battle that 
was fought on the Susquehanna and Ohio rivers; and 
was so fortunate as never to have been taken prisoner. 

At Braddoek's defeat, he took two white prisoners, and 
burnt them alive in a fire of his own kindling. 

In 1777, he was in the battle at Fort Freeiand, in 
Northumberland county, Pa. The fort contained a great 
number of women and children, and was defended only 
by a small garrison. The force that went against it con- 
sisted of. one hundred British regulars, commanded by a 
Colonel McDonald, and three hundred Indians under 
Hiokatoo. After a short but bloody engagement, the 
fort was surrendered. The women and children were 
sent under an escort to the next fort below, and the men 
and boys taken off by a party of British to the general 
Indian encampment. As soon as the fort had capitulat- 
ed and the firing had ceased, Hiokatoo, with the help of a 
few Indians, tomahawked every wounded American) while 
earnestly begging with uplifted hands for quarter. 

The massacre was but just finished when Captains 
Dougherty and Boon arrived with a reinforcement to 
assist the garrison. On their arriving in sight of the 
fort, they saw that it had surrendered, and that an Indian 



DEH-nE-wi-aiis. 189 

was holding the flag. This so much inflamed Captain 
Dougherty that he left his command, stepped forward, 
and shot the Indian at the first fire. Another took the 
flag, and had no sooner got it erected than Dougherty 
dropped him as he had the first. A third presumed to hold 
it, who was also shot down by Dougherty. Hiokatoo, 
exasperated at the sight of such bravery, sallied out with 
a party of his Indians, and killed Capt's Dougherty, Boon, 
and fourteen men, at the first fire. The remainder of 
the two companies escaped by taking to flight, and soon 
arrived at the fort which they had left but a few hours before. 

In an expedition that went out against Cherry Valley 
and the neighboring settlements, Captain David, a Mohawk 
Indian, was first, and Hiokatoo the second in command. 
The force consisted of several hundred Indians, who were 
determined on mischief, and the destruction of the whites. 
A continued series of wanton barbarity characterized 
their career, for they plundered and burned every thing 
that came in their way, and killed a number of persons, 
among whom were a number of infants, whom Hiokatoo 
butchered or dashed upon the stones with his own hands. 
Besides the instances which have been mentioned, he was 
in a number of parties during the Revolutionary War, 
where he ever acted a conspicuous part. 

The Indians, having removed the seat of their depre- 
dations and war to the frontiers of Pennsylvania, Ohio* 



190 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

Kentucky, and the neighboring territories, assembled a 
large force at Upper Sandusky, their place of general 
rendezvous, from whence they went out to the various 
places which they designed to sacrifice. 

Tired of the desolating scenes that were so often wit- 
nessed, and feeling a confidence that the savages might 
be subdued, and an end put to their crimes, the American 
government raised a regiment, consisting of three hun- 
dred volunteers, for the purpose of dislodging them from 
their cantonment, and preventing further barbarities. Col- 
onel William Crawford, and Lieutenant-Colonel David 
Williamson — men who had been thoroughly tried and 
approved — were commissioned by General Washington 
to take the command of a service that seemed all-important 
to the welfare of the country. In the month of July, 
1782, well armed, and provided with a sufficient quantity 
of provisions, this regiment made an expeditious march 
through the wilderness to Upper Sandusky, where, as 
had been anticipated they found the Indians assembled 
in full force at their encampment, prepared to receive 
an attack. 

As Colonel Crawford and his brave men advanced, and 
when they had got within a short distance of the town, 
they were met by a white man, with a flag of truce from 
the Indians, who proposed to Colonel Crawford, that, if 
hie would surrender himself and his men to the Indians, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 191 

their lives should be spared ; but that, if they persisted 
in their undertaking, and attacked the town, they should 
all be massacred to a man. 

Crawford, while hearing the proposition, attentively 
surveyed its bearer, and recognized in his features one of 
his former schoolmates and companions, with whom he 
was perfectly acquainted, by the name of Simon G-urty. 
G-urty, but a short time before this, had been a soldier in 
the American army, in the same regiment with Crawford ; 
but on the account of his not having received the promo- 
tion that he expected, he became disaffected, swore an 
eternal war with his countrymen, fled to the Indians, and 
joined them, as a leader well qualified to conduct them to 
where they could satiate their thirst for blood, upon the 
innocent, unoffending and defenseless settlers. Crawford 
sternly inquired of the traitor if his name was not Simon 
Gurty ; and being answered in the affirmative, he informed 
him that he despised the offer which he had made ; and 
that he should not surrender his army, unless he should 
be compelled to do so by a superior force. 

Gurty returned, and Crawford immediately commenced 
an engagement that lasted till night, without the appear- 
ance of victory on either side ; when the firing ceased, and 
the combatants on both sides retired to take refreshment, 
and to rest through the night. Crawford encamped in the 
woods near half a mile from the town, where, after the 



192 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

sentinels were placed, and each had taken his ration, they 
slept on their arms, that they might be instantly ready in 
case they should be attacked. The stillness of death 
hovered over the little army, and sleep relieved the whole, 
except the wakeful sentinels, who vigilantly attended to 
their duty. But what was their surprise when they found, 
late in the night, that they were surrounded by the In- 
dians on every side, except a narrow space between them 
and the town. Every man was under arms, and the offi- 
cers instantly consulted each other on the best method 
of escaping ; for they saw that to fight would be useless, 
and that to surrender would be death. 

Crawford proposed to retreat through the ranks of the 
enemy in an opposite direction from the town, as being the 
most sure course to take. Lieutenant Colonel Williamson 
advised to march directly through the town, where there 
appeared to be no Indians, as the fires were yet burning. 

There was no time or place for debates. Colonel Craw- 
ford, with sixty followers, retreated on the route that he 
had proposed, by attempting to rush through the enemy ; 
but they had no sooner got among the Indians than every 
man was killed or taken prisoner. Among the prisoners 
were Colonel Crawford, and Doctor Knight, surgeon of 
the regiment. Lieutenant-Colonel Williamson, with the 
remainder of the regiment, together with the wounded, 
set out at the same time that Crawford did, went through 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 193 

the town without losing a man, and, by the help of good 
guides, arrived at their homes in safety. 

The next day after the engagement, the Indians dis- 
posed of all their prisoners to the different tribes, except 
Colonel Crawford and Doctor Knight ; but those unfor- 
tunate men were reserved for a more cruel destiny. A 
council was immediately held on Sandusky Plains, con- 
sisting of all the chiefs and warriors, ranged in their cus- 
tomary order, in a circular form ; and Crawford and 
Knight were brought forward and seated in the center of 
the circle. 

The council being opened, the chiefs began to examine 
Crawford on various subjects relative to the war. At 
length they inquired who conducted the military opera- 
tions of the American army on the Ohio and Susquehanna 
rivers during the year before ; and who had led that army 
against them with so much skill, and such uniform success ? 
Crawford, very honestly, and without suspecting any harm 
from his reply, promptly answered that he was the man 
who had led his countrymen to victory, who had driven 
the enemy from the settlements, and by that means had 
procured a great degree of happiness to many of his fellow- 
citizens. Upon hearing this, a chief, who had lost a son 
the year before, in a battle where Colonel Crawford com- 
manded, left his station in the council, stepped to Craw- 



194 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

ford, blacked his face, and at the same time told him that 
the next day he should be burned. 

The council was immediately dissolved on its hearing 
the sentence from the chief, and the prisoners were taken 
off the ground, and kept in custody through the night. 
Crawford now viewed his fate as sealed ; and, despairing 
of ever returning to his home or his country, only dreaded 
the tediousness of death, as commonly inflicted by the 
savages, and earnestly hoped that he might be dispatched 
at a single blow. 

Early the next morning the Indians assembled at the 
place of execution, and Crawford was led. to the post — 
the goal of savage torture, to which he was fastened. 
The post was a stick of timber, placed firmly in the 
ground, having an arm framed in at the top, and extend- 
ing some six or eight feet from it, like the arm of a sign- 
post. A pile of wood, containing about two cords, lay 
about two feet from the place where he stood; which he 
was informed was to be kindled into a fire that would 
burn him alive, as many had been burned on the same 
spot, who had been much less deserving than himself. 

Gurty stood and composedly looked on the prepara- 
tions that were making for the funeral of one of his for- 
mer playmates, a hero by whose side be had fought; of a 
man whose valor had won laurels which, if he could have 
returned, would have been strewed upon his grave by his 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 195 

grateful countrymen. Dreading the agony that he saw 
he was about to feel, Crawford used every argument which 
his perilous situation could suggest, to prevail upon 
Gurty to ransom him at any price, and deliver him, as it 
was in his power, from savages and their torments. 
Gurty heard his prayers and expostulations, and saw his 
tears with indifference ; and finally told the forsaken vic- 
tim that he would not procure him a moment's respite, 
nor afford him the most trifling assistance. 

The colonel was then bound, stripped naked, and tied 
by his wrists to the arm which extended horizontally from 
the post, in such a manner that his arms were extended 
over his head, with his feet just standing upon the ground. 
This being done, the savages placed the wood in a circle 
around him, at the distance of a few feet, in order that 
his misery might be protracted to the greatest length, and 
then kindled it in a number of places at the same time. 
The flames arose, and the scorching heat became almost 
insupportable. Again he prayed to Gurty, in all the an- 
guish of his torment, to rescue him from the fire, or shoot 
him dead upon the spot. A demoniac smile suffused the 
countenance of Gurty, while he calmly replied to the 
dying suppliant, thai he had no pity for his suffering ; but 
that he was then satisfying that spirit of revenge which 
for a long time. he had hoped to have an opportunity to 
wreak upon him. Nature being almost exhausted from 



196 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

the intensity of the heat, he settled down a little, when 
a squaw threw coals of fire and embers upon him, which 
made him groan most piteously, while the whole camp 
rung with exultation. During the execution, they mani- 
fested all the ecstasy of a complete triumph. Poor Craw- 
ford soon died, and was entirely consumed. 

Thus ended the life of a patriot and hero, who had been 
an intimate with General Washington, and who shared, 
in an eminent degree, the confidence of that great, good 
man, to whom, in the time of Revolutionary perils, the 
sons of legitimate freedom looked with a degree of faith in 
his mental resources unequaled in the history of the world. 

That tragedy being ended, Doctor Knight was informed 
that on the next day he should be burned, in the same 
manner that his comrade Crawford had been, at Lower 
Sandusky. Hiokatoo, who had been a leading chief in the 
battle with, and in the execution of Crawford, painted 
Doctor Knight's face black, and then bound him, and gave 
him up to two able-bodied Indians to conduct to the place 
of execution. 

They set off with him immediately, and traveled till 
toward evening, when they halted to encamp till morning. 
The afternoon had been very rainy, and the storm still 
continued, which rendered it very difficult for the Indians 
to kindle a fire. Knight, observing the difficulty under 
which they labored, made them to understand, by signs, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 197 

that if the} 7 would unbind him, he would assist them. 
They accordingly unloosed him, and he soon succeeded 
in making a fire by the application of some dry stuff, 
which, at considerable trouble, and displaying much, inge- 
nuity, he procured. While the Indians were warming 
themselves, the Doctor continued to gather wood to last 
through the night ; and in doing this he found a club, 
which he placed in a situation whence he could take it 
conveniently, whenever an opportunity should present 
itself in which he could use it effectually. The Indians 
continued warming, till at length the Doctor saw that 
they had placed themselves in a favorable position for the 
execution of his design, when, stimulated by the love of 
life, he cautiously took his club, and, at two blows, knocked 
them both down. Determined to finish the work of death 
which he had so well begun, he drew one of their scalp- 
ing-knives, with which he beheaded and scalped them 
both. He then took a rifle, tomahawk, and some ammu- 
nition, and directed his course for home, where he arrived 
without having experienced any difficulty on his journey. 
The next morning the Indians took the track of their 
victim and his attendants, to go to Lower Sandusky, and 
there execute the sentence which they had pronounced 
upon him. But what was their surprise and disappoint- 
ment, when they arrived at the place of encampment, 
when they found their trusty friends scalped and decapi- 



198 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

tated, and that their prisoner had made his escape. Cha- 
grined beyond measure, they immediately separated, and 
went in every direction in pursuit of their prey ; but after 
having spent a number of days unsuccessfully, they gave 
up the chase, and retired to their encampment. 

In the time of the French war, in an engagement which 
took place on the Ohio River, Hiokatoo took a British 
colonel, by the name of Simon Canton, whom he carried 
to the Indian encampment. A council was held, and the 
colonel was sentenced to suffer death, by being tied on a 
wild colt, with his face toward its tail, and then having 
the colt turned loose, to run where it pleased. He was 
accordingly tied on, and the colt let loose, agreeable to 
the sentence. The colt ran two clays, and then returned 
with its rider yet alive. The Indians, thinking that he 
would never die in that way, took him off, and made him 
run the gauntlet three times ; but in the last race a squaw 
knocked him clown, and he was supposed to have been 
dead. He, however, recovered, and was sold for fifty 
dollars to a Frenchman, who sent him as a prisoner to 
Detroit. On the return of the Frenchman to Detroit, the 
colonel besought him either to ransom him or set him at 
liberty, with so much warmth, and promised with so much 
solemnity to reward him as one of the best of benefactors, 
if he would let him go, that the Frenchman took his 
word, and sent him home to his family. The colonel 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 199 

remembered his promise, and in a short time sent his 
deliverer one hundred and fifty dollars as a reward for 
his generosity. 

Since the commencement of the Revolutionary War, 
Hiokatoo has been in seventeen campaigns, four of which 
were in the Cherokee war. He was so great an enemy to 
the Cherokees, and so fully determined upon their subju- 
gation, that on his march to their country, he raised his 
own army for those four campaigns, and commanded it ; 
and also superintended its subsistence. In one of those 
campaigns, which continued two whole years without inter- 
mission, he attacked his enemies on the Mobile, drove 
them to the country of the Creek nation, where he con- 
tinued to harass them, till, being tired of the war, he re- 
turned to his family. He brought home a great number 
of scalps, which he had taken from the enemy, and ever 
seemed to possess an unconquerable determination that 
the Cherokees should be utterly destroyed. Toward the 
close of his last fighting in that country, he took two 
squaws, whom he sold on his way home, for money to 
defray the expense of his journey. 

Hiokatoo was about six feet four or five inches high, 
large boned, and rather inclined to leanness. He was 
very stout and active, for a man of his size. It was said, 
by himself and others, that he had never found an Indian 
who could keep up with him on a race, or throw him at 



200 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

wrestling. His eye was quick and penetrating ; and his 
voice was of that thrilling and powerful kind, which, 
among Indians, always commands attention. His health 
was uniformly good. He was never confined by sickness, 
till he was attacked with consumption, four years before 
his death ; and although he had, from his earliest days, 
been inured to almost constant fatigue, and exposed to 
the inclemency of the weather in the open air, he seemed 
to lose the vigor of the prime of life only by the natural 
decay occasioned by old age. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 201 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Ebenezer Allen — The belt of wampum — He lives at Mary's house — 
Marries a squaw — Taken by the Indians — Escapes and secretes 
himself — Fed by Mary — Taken again, tried, and acquitted — 
Builds a great mill at Rochester — Marries a white woman — Re- 
moves to Allen's creek — Marries a third wife — Removes to Cana- 
da with two wives — Abandons the first — His death. 

Sometime near the close of the Revolutionary War, a 
white man, by the name of Ebenezer Allen, left his 
people, in the state of Pennsylvania, on account of some 
disaffection toward his countrymen, and came to the 
Genesee River to reside with the Indians. He tarried at 
Genishau a few days, and came up to Gardeau, where I 
then resided. He was, apparently, without any business 
that would support him; but he soon became acquainted 
with my son Thomas, with whom he hunted for a long 
time, and made his home with him at my house. Winter 
came on, and he continued his stay.* 

When Allen came to my house, I had a white man 

* " Ebenezer Allen was no hero, but, rather, a desperado. He warred 
against his own race, country, and color; and vied with his savage al- 
lies in deeds of cruelty and bloodshed. He was a native of New Jer- 
sey " — [Turner's History or the Holland Purchase, p. 297. 
13 I 



202 LIFF OF MARY JEMISON. 

living on my land, who had a Nanticoke squaw for his 
wife, with whom he had lived very peaceably; for he was 
a moderate man commonly, and she was a kind, gentle, 
cunning creature. It so happened that he had no hay for. 
his cattle ; so that in the winter he was obliged to drive 
them every day perhaps a mile from his house, to let 
them feed on the rushes, which in those days were so nu- 
merous as to nearly covei*the ground. 

Allen, having frequently seen the squaw in the fall, took 
the opportunity when her husband was absent with his 
cows, daily to make her a visit ; and in return for his 
kindnesses she made and gave him a red cap, finished 
and decorated in the highest Indian style. 

The husband had for some considerable length of time felt 
a degree of jealousy that Allen was trespassing upon his 
rights, with the consent of his squaw ; but when he saw 
Allen dressed in so fine an Indian cap, and found that his 
dear Nanticoke had presented it to him, his doubts all 
left him, and he became so violently enraged that he 
caught her by the hair of her head, dragged her on the 
ground to my house, a distance of forty rods, and threw 
her in at the door. Hiokatoo, my husband, exasperated 
at the sight of so much inhumanity, hastily took down 
his old tomahawk, which for a while had lain idle, shook 
it over the cuckold's head, and bade him jogo (i. e. go off.) 
The enraged husband, well knowing that he should feel a 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS, 203 

blow if he waited to hear the order repeated, instantly re- 
treated, and went down the river to his cattle. We pro- 
tected the poor Xantieoke woman, and gave her victuals ; 
•and Allen sympathized with her in her misfortunes till 
spring, when her husband came to her, acknowledged his 
former errors, and that he had abused her without a cause, 
promised a reformation, and she received him with every 
mark of a renewal of her affection. They went home lov- 
ingly, and soon after removed to Niagara. 

The same spring, Allen commenced working my flats, 
and continued to labor there till after the peace of 1783, 
He then went to Philadelphia on some business that de- 
tained him but a few days, and returned with a horse and 
some dry goods, which he carried to a place that is now 
called Mount Morris, where he built or bought a small 
house. 

The British and Indians on the Niagara frontier, dissat- 
isfied with the treaty of peace, were determined, at all 
hazards, to continue their depredations upon the white 
settlements which lay between them and Albany. They 
actually made ready, and were about setting out on an 
expedition to that effect, when Allen (who by this time 
understood their system of war) took a belt of wampum, 
which he had fraudulently procured, and carried it as a 
token of peace from the Indians to the commander of the 
nearest American military post. The Indians were soon 



204 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

answered by the American officer, that the wampum was 
cordially accepted, and that a continuance of peace was 
ardently wished for. The Indians, at this, were chagrined 
and disappointed beyond measure ; but as they held the ■ 
wampum to be a sacred thing, they dared not go against 
the import of its meaning, and immediately buried the 
hatchet, as it respected the people of the United States, 
and smoked the pipe of peace. They, however, resolved 
to punish Allen for his officiousness in meddling with 
their national affairs, by presenting the sacred wampum 
without their knowledge ; and went about devising means 
for his detection. A party was accordingly dispatched 
from Fort Niagara to apprehend him ; with orders to con- 
duct him to that post for trial, or for safe keeping, till 
such time as his fate should be determined upon in a 
legal manner. 

The party came on; but before it arrived at Gardeau, 
Allen got news of its approach, and fled for safety, leav- 
ing the horse and goods that he had brought from Phila- 
delphia an easy prey to his enemies. He had not been 
long absent when they arrived at Gardeau, where they 
made diligent search for him till they were satisfied that 
they could not find him, and then seized the effects which 
he had left, and returned to Niagara. My son Thomas 
went with them, with Allen's horse, and carried the goods. 

Allen, on finding that his enemies had gone, came 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 205 

back to my house, where he lived as before ; but of his 
return they were soon notified at Niagara, and Nettles, 
(who married Priscilla Ramsay,) with a small party of 
Indians, came on to take him. He, however, by some 
means found that they were near, and gave me his bos 
of money and trinkets to keep safely till he called for it, 
and again took to the woods. Nettles came on, deter- 
mined, at all events, to take him before he went back ; 
and, in order to accomplish his design, he, with his Indians, 
hunted in the day time, and lay by at night at my house; 
and in that way they practiced for a number of days, 
Allen watched the motions of his pursuers, and every 
night after they had gone to rest, came home and got 
some fo*od, and then returned to his retreat. It was in 
the fall, and the weather was cold and rainy, so that he 
suffered extremely. Some nights he sat in my chamber 
till nearly daybreak, while his enemies were below ; and 
when the time arrived, I assisted him to escape unnoticed, 
Nettles at length abandoned the chase, went home, and 
Allen, all in tatters, came in. By running in the woods 
his clothing had become torn into rags, so that he was in 
a suffering condition, almost naked. Hiokatoo gave him 
a blanket, and a piece of broadcloth for a pair of trousers, 
Allen made his trousers himself, and then built a raft, on 
which he went down the river to his own place at Mount 
Morris. 



206 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

About that time lie married a squaw, whose name was 
Sally. 

The Niagara people, finding that he was at his own 
house, came and took him by surprise,' and carried him to 
Niagara. Fortunately for him, it so happened that just 
as they arrived at the fort, a house took fire, and his keep- 
ers all left him, to save the building if possible. Allen 
had supposed his doom to be nearly sealed ; but, finding 
himself at liberty, he took to his heels, left his escort to 
put out the fire, and ran to Tonawanda. There an In- 
dian gave him some refreshments, and a good gun, with 
which he hastened on to Little Beard's Town, where he 
found 'his squaw. Not daring to risk himself at that place, 
for fear of being given up, he made her but a short visit, 
and came immediately to Gardeau. 

Just as he got to the top of the hill above the Gardeau 
Flats, he discovered a party of British soldiers and In- 
dians in pursuit of him ; and, in fact, they were so near 
that he was satisfied that they saw him, and concluded 
that it would be impossible for him to escape. The love 
of liberty, however, added to his natural swiftness, gave 
him sufficient strength to make his escape to his former 
castle of safety. His pursuers came immediately to my 
house, where they expected to have found him secreted, and 
under my protection. They told me where they had seen 
him but a few moments before, and that they were confi- 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 207 

dent that it was within my power to put him into their 
hands. As I was perfectly clear of having had any hand 
in his escape, I told them plainly that I had not seen 
him since he was taken to Niagara, and that I could give 
them no information at all respecting him. Still unsatis- 
fied, and doubting my veracity, they advised my Indian 
brother to use his influence to draw from me the secret 
of his concealment, which they had an idea that I con- 
sidered of great importance, not only to him, but to my- 
self. I persisted in my ignorance of his situation, and 
finally they left me. 

Although I had not seen Allen, I knew his place of 
security, and was well aware that, if I told them the place 
where he had formerly hid himself, they would have no 
difficulty in making him a prisoner. 

He came to my house in the night, and awoke me with 
the greatest caution, fearing that some of his enemies 
might be watching to take him at a time when, and in a 
place where, it would be impossible for him to make his 
escape. I got up, and assured him that he was then safe ; 
but that his enemies would return early in the morning, 
and search him out if it should be possible. Having given 
him some victuals, which he received thankfully, I told 
hiiii to go, but to return the next night to a certain corner 
of the fence near my house, where he would find a quantity 



208 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

of meal that I would have prepared and deposited there 
for his use. 

Early the next morning, Kettles and his company came 
in while I was pounding the meal for Allen, and insisted 
upon my giving him up. I again told them that I did not 
know where he was, and that I could not, neither would 
I, tell them any thing about him. I well knew that Allen 
considered his life in my hands ; and although it was my 
intention not to lie, I was fully determined to keep his 
situation a profound secret. They continued their labor, 
and examined, as they supposed, every crevice, gully, 
tree, and hollow log in the neighboring woods, and at last 
concluded that he had left the country, gave him up for 
lost, and returned home. 

At that time Allen lay in a secret place in the gulf, a 
short distance above my flats, in a hole that he accident- 
ally found in a rock near the river. At night he came and 
got the meal at the corner of the fence as I had directed 
him, and afterward lived in the gulf two weeks. Each 
night he came to the pasture and milked one of my cows, 
without any other vessel in which to receive the milk than 
his hat, out of which he drank it. I supplied him with 
meal, but, fearing to build a fire, he was obliged to eat it 
raw, and wash it down with the milk. Nettles having 
left our neighborhood, and Allen considering himself safe, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 209 

left his little cave, and came home. I gave him his box 
of money and trinkets, and he went to his own house at 
Mount Morris. It was generally considered, by the In- 
dians of our tribe, that Allen was an innocent man, and 
that the Niagara people were persecuting him without a 
just cause. Little Beard, then about to go to the east- 
ward on public business, charged his Indians not to 
meddle with Allen, but to let him live among them 
peaceably, and enjoy himself with his family and property 
if he could. Having the protection of the chief, he felt 
himself safe, and let his situation be known to the whites, 
from whom he suspected no harm. They, however, were 
more inimical than our Indians, and were easily bribed 
by Nettles to assist in bringing him to justice. Nettles 
came on, and the whites, as they had agreed, gave poor 
Allen up to him. He was bound, and carried to Niagara, 
where he was confined in prison through the winter. In 
the spring he was taken to Montreal or Quebec for trial, 
and was honorably acquitted. The crime for which he 
was tried was for having carried the wampum to the 
Americans, and thereby putting too sudden a stop to 
their war. 

From the place of his trial he went directly to Phila- 
delphia, and purchased on credit a boat-load of goods, 
which he brought by water to Conhocton, where he left 

them, and came to Mount Morris for assistance to get 

I* 



210 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

them brought on. The Indians readily went with horses, 
and brought them to his house, where he disposed of his 
dry goods ; but not daring to let the Indians begin to 
drink strong liquor, for fear of the quarrels which would 
naturally follow, he sent his spirits to my place, where 
we sold them. For his goods he received ginseng roots, 
principally, and a few skins. Ginseng at that time was 
plenty, and commanded a high price. We prepared the 
whole that he received for the market, expecting that he 
would carry them to Philadelphia. In that I was disap- 
pointed ; for, when he had disposed of, and got pay for, 
all his goods, he took the ginseng and skins to Niagara, 
and there sold them, and came home. 

Tired of dealing in goods, he planted a large field of 
corn on or near his own land, attended to it faithfully, and 
succeeded in raising a large crop, which he harvested, 
loaded into canoes, and carried clown the river to the 
mouth of Allen's creek, then called by the Indians Gin-is- 
a-ga, where he unloaded it, built him a house, and lived 
with his family. 

The next season he planted corn at that place, and 
built a grist and saw-mill on Genesee Falls, now called 
Rochester. 

At the time Allen built the mills, he had an old Ger- 
man living with him by the name of Andrews, whom he 
sent in a canoe down the river with his mill-irons. Allen 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 211 

•went down at the same time ; but, before they got to the 
mills, Allen threw the old man overboard, as it was then 
generally believed, for he was never seen or heard of 
afterward. 

In the course of the season in which Allen built his 
mills, he became acquainted with the daughter of a white 
man who was moving to Niagara. She was handsome, 
and Allen soon got into her good graces, so that he 
married and took her home, to be a joint partner with 
Sally, the squaw, whom she had never heard of till she 
got home and found her in full possession ; but it was too 
late to retrace the hasty steps she had taken, for her father 
had left her in the care of a tender husband, and gone on. 
She, however, found that she enjoyed at least an equal 
half of her husband's affections, and made herself con- 
tented. Her father's name I have forgotten, but her's 
was Lucy. 

Allen was not contented with two wives, for in a short 
time after he had married Lucy he came up to my house, 
where he found a young woman who had an old husband 
with her. They had been on a long journey, and called 
at my place to recruit and rest themselves. She filled 
Allen's eye, and he accordingly fixed upon a plan to get 
her into his possession. He praised his situation, enu- 
merated his advantages, and finally persuaded them to 
go home and tarry with him a few days at least, and par- 



212 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

take of a part of his comforts. They accepted his gene- 
rous invitation, and went home with him. But they had 
been there but two or three days, when Allen took the 
old gentleman out to view his flats;' and as they were 
deliberately walking on the bank of the river, pushed him 
into the water. The old man, almost strangled, suc- 
ceeded in getting out ; but his fall and exertions had so 
powerful an effect upon his system that he died in two or 
three days, and left his young widow to the protection of 
his murderer. She lived with him about one year, in a 
state of concubinage, and then left him. 

How long Allen lived at Allen's creek I am unable to 
state ; but soon after the young widow left him, he re- 
moved to his old place at Mount Morris, and built a 
house, where he made Sally — his squaw, by whom he had 
two daughters — a slave to Lucy, by whom he had one 
son; still, however, he considered Sally to be his wife. After 
Allen came to Mount Morris at that time, he married a 
girl by the name of Morilla Gregory, whose father, at the 
time, lived on Genesee Flats. The ceremony being over, 
he took her home to live in common with his other wives ; 
but his house was too small for his family — for Sally and 
Lucy, conceiving that their lawful privileges would be 
abridged if they received a partner, united their strength, 
and whipped poor Morilla so cruelly that he was obliged 
to keep her in a small, Indian house, a short distance 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 213 

from his own, or lose her entirely. Morilla, before she 
left Mount Morris, had four children. 

One of Morilla's sisters lived with Allen about a year 
after Morilla was married, and then quit him. 

A short time after they had been living at Mount Mor- 
ris, Allen prevailed upon the chiefs to give to his Indian 
children a tract of land two miles square, where he theru 
resided. The chiefs gave them the land, but he so art- 
fully contrived the conveyance that he could apply it 
to his own use, and by alienating his right, destroy the 
claim of his children. 

Having secured the land in that way to himself, he 
sent his two Indian girls to Trenton, X. J., and his white 
son to Philadelphia, for the purpose of giving each of 
them a respectable English education. 

While his children were at school, he went to Phila- 
delphia, and sold his right to the land, which he had 
begged of the Indians for his children, to Eobert Morris. 
After that, he sent for his daughters to come home, which 
they did. 

Having disposed of the whole of his property on the 
Genesee River, he took his two white wives and their 
children, together with his effects, and removed to Dela- 
ware Town, on the River De Trench, in Upper Canada. 
When he left Mount Morris, Sally, his squaw, insisted 
upon going with him, and actually followed him, crying 



214 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

bitterly, and praying for his protection, some two or three 
miles, till he absolutely bade her leave him, or he would 
punish her with severity. At length rinding her case 
hopeless, she returned to the Indians. - 

At the great treaty in 1797, one of Allen's daughters 
claimed the Mount Morris tract, which her father had sold 
to Eobert Morris. The claim was examined, and decided 
against her, in favor of Morris' creditors. 

He died at the Delaware Town, on the River De Trench, 
in the year 1814 or 1815, and left two white widows and 
one squaw, with a number of children, to lament his loss. 

By his last will, he gave all his property to his last 
wife, Morilla, and her children, without providing in the 
least for the support of Lucy, or any of the other mem- 
bers of his family. Lucy, soon after his death, went with 
her children down the Ohi'o River, to receive assistance 
from her friends. 

In the Revolutionary War, Allen was a Tory, and by 
that means became acquainted with our Indians, when 
they were in the neighborhood of his native place, deso- 
lating the settlements on the Susquehanna. In those 
predatory battles he joined them, and for cruelty was not 
exceeded by his Indian comrades. 

At one time, when he was scouting with the Indians, 
he entered a house very early in the morning, where he 
found a man, his wife, and one child, in bed. The man 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 215 

instantly sprang on the floor, for the purpose of defending 
himself and little family; but Allen dispatched him at 
one blow. He then cut off his head, and threw it, bleeding, 
into the bed with the terrified woman ; took the little in- 
fant from its mother's breast, dashed its head against the 
jamb, and left the unhappy widow and mother, to mourn 
alone over her murdered family. It has been said by 
some, that, after he had killed the child, he opened the 
fire, and buried it under the coals and embers ; but of 
that I am not certain. I have often heard him speak of 
that transaction with a great degree of sorrow, and as 
the foulest crime he had ever committed — one for which 
I have no doubt he repented * 

* " Governor Simcoe granted him three thousand acres of land, upon 
condition that he would build a saw-mill, a grist-mill, and a church — 
all but the church to be his property. He performed his part of the 
contract, and the title to his land was confirmed. In a few years, he 
had his mills, a comfortable dwelling, large improvements, was a good 
liver, and those who knew him at that period represent him as hospit- 
able and obliging. 

About the year 1806, or 1807, reverses began to overtake him. At 
one period he was arrested, and tried for forgery ; at another, for pass- 
ing counterfeit money ; at another, for larceny. He was acquitted of 
each offense upon trial. He was obnoxious to many of his white 
neighbors, and it is likely that at least two of the charges against him 
arose out of a combination that was promoted by personal enmity. All 
this brought on embarrassments, which terminated in an almost entire 
loss of his large property. He died in 1814." — Turner's History op 
the Holland Purchase, p. 802-3. 



216 LIFE OF MART JEMISON. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Government of the Iroquois — Civil and Military Chiefs — Counsel- 
ors — Religious Beliefs — The Great Spirit — The Evil Spirit — 
Religious festivals — Sacrifice of the White Dog — The Dance — 
Marriage Customs — Chastity of the Indian — Polygamy. 

The government of the Six Nations when they were in 
the zenith of their prosperity and power, was an oligarchy, 
composed of a mixture of elective and hereditary power ; 
and to the skeleton of such a government the remnant of 
the race still adhere. Their government was adminis- 
tered by chiefs — each tribe having two ; one of whom 
was hereditary, and the other elective ; the term of whose 
office was during good behavior, and might be removed 
for any real or supposed sufficient cause, which, however, 
was seldom put in execution. The elective sachem was 
the military chieftain, whose duty it was, to attend to all 
the military concerns of the tribe, and command the war- 
riors in battle. They were both members of the general 
council of the confederacy, as well as of the national 
council, which met as often as necessity required, and 
settled all questions, involving matters in which their own 
nation only had an interest ; but the general council of 
the confederacy met but once a year, except in cases of 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 217 

emergency. It then met at Onondaga, being the head- 
quarters of the most central nation, where all great ques- 
tions of general interest, such as peace and war — the 
concerns of tributary nations, and all negociations with 
the French and English were debated, deliberated upon, 
and decided. All decisions made by the chiefs of a tribe, 
which affected the members of that tribe only — all de- 
cisions of the national council, solely relative to the affairs 
of that nation, (a majority of chiefs concurring,)*and all 
decisions of the general council of the confederacy, were 
laws and decrees from which there was no appeal. There 
is also a class of counselors in the several tribes, who 
have great influence over, but no direct voice in the de- 
cision of any question, f 

* The author has fallen into an error in this particular. It was a 
fundamental law of the confederacy, and also of each nation, that the 
chiefs "must be of one mind;" that is, unanimous. — [Ed. 

f "At the institution of the league fifty permanent sachemships were 
created, with appropriate names ; and in the sachems who held these 
titles were vested the supreme power of the confederacy. To secure 
order in the succession, and to determine the individuals entitled, the 
sachemships were made hereditary, under limited and peculiar laws of 
descent. The sachems themselves were equal in rank and authority, 
and instead of holding separate territorial jurisdictions, their powers 
were joint and co-extensive with the league. As a safeguard against 
contention and fraud, such sachem was " raised up," and invested with 
his title, by a council of all the sachems, with suitable forms and cere- 
monies. Until this ceremony of confirmation or investiture, no one 

could become a ruler. He received, when raised up, the name of the 
14< 



218 LIFE OF MARY J EM I SON. 

Perhaps no people are more exact observers of religious 
duties, than those Indians among the Senecas who are 
denominated Pagans, in contradistinction from those, who, 
having renounced some of their former superstitious no- 
tions, have obtained the name of Christians. The tradi- 
tionary faith of their fathers, having been orally trans- 
mitted to them from time immemmorial, is implicitly 
believed, scrupulously adhered to, and rigidly practiced. 
They are agreed in their sentiments — are all of one order ; 

sachemship itself, as in the case of the titles of nobility, and so also 
did his successors, from generation to generation. The sachemships 
were distributed unequally between the five nations. Nine of them 
were assigned to the Mohawk nation, nine to the Oneida, fourteen to 
the Onondaga, ten to the Cayuga, and eight to the Seneca. The sa- 
chems, united, formed the council of the League — the ruling body in 
whom resided the executive, legislative, and judicial authority. 

It thus appears that the government of the Iroquois was an oligarchy, 
taking the term, at least, in the literal sense, "the rule of the few;" 
and while more system is observable in this, than in the oligarchies of 
antiquity, it seems, also, better calculated in its framework to resist 

political changes Next to the sachems, in position, stood the 

chiefs — an inferior class of rulers, the very existence of whose office 
was an anomaly in the oligarchy of the Iroquois. The office of chief 
was made elective, and the reward of merit ; but without any power 

of descent, the title terminating with the individual After 

their election they were raised up by a council of the nation ; but a 
ratification by the general council of the sachems wa3 necessary to 
complete the investiture. The powers and duties of the sachems and 
chiefs were entirely of a civil character, and confined by their organic 
laws to the affairs of peace."— [League of the Iroquois, p. 62-71. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 219 

individual and public good, especially among themselves, 
being the great motive which excites them to attend to 
those moral virtues that are directed and explained by 
all their rules, and in all their ceremonies. 

Many years have elapsed since the introduction of 
Christian missionaries among them, whom they have 
heard, and very generally understand the purport of the 
message they were sent to deliver. They say that it is 
highly probable that Jesus Christ came into the world in 
old times, to establish a religion that would promote the 
happiness of the white people on the other side of the 
great water, (meaning the sea;) and that he died for the 
sins of his people, as the missionaries have informed 
them. But, they say that Jesus Christ had nothing to 
do with them; and that the Christian religion was not 
designed for their benefit ; but rather, should they em- 
brace it, they are confident it would make them worse, 
and consequently do them an injury. They say also, 
that the Great Good Spirit gave them their religion ; and 
that it is better adapted to their circumstances, situation, 
and habits, and to the promotion of their present comfort, 
and ultimate happiness, than any system that ever has or 
can be devised. They, however, believe that the Chris- 
tian religion is better calculated for the good of white 
people than theirs is, and wonder that those who have 
embraced it, do not attend more strictly to its precepts, 



220 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

and feel more engaged for its support and diffusion among 
themselves. At the present time, they are opposed to 
preachers or schoolmasters being sent or coming among 
them, and appear determined by all means to adhere to 
their ancient customs. 

They believe in a Great Good Spirit, whom they call in 
the Seneca language Kau-wah-ne-u,* as the creator of the 
world, and of every good thing ; that he made men, and 
all inoffensive animals ; that he supplies men with all 
the comforts of life; and that he is particularly partial to 
the Indians, who, they say, are his peculiar people. They 
also believe that he is pleased in giving them (the Indians) 
good gifts ; and that he is highly gratified with their good 
conduct, that he abhors their vices, and that he is willing to 
punish them for their bad conduct, not only in this world but 
in a future state of existence. His residence, they suppose, 
lies at a great distance from them, in a country that is 
perfectly pleasant, where plenty abounds, even to profu- 
sion. That there the soil is completely fertile, and the 
seasons so mild that the corn never fails to be good — 
that the deer, elk, buffalo, turkeys, and other useful ani- 
mals, are numerous, and that the forests are well calculated 
to facilitate their hunting them with success — that the 
streams are pure, and abound with fish; and nothing is 
wanting, to render fruition complete. Over this terri- 

•* JLa-wenrne-yu. — piD. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 221 

tory they say Nauwahneu presides as an all-powerful 
king ; and that without counsel he admits to his pleasures 
all whom he considers to be worthy of enjoying so great 
a state of blessedness. To this Being they address 
prayers, offer sacrifices, give thanks for favors, and per- 
form many acts of devotion and reverence. 

They likewise believe that Nauwahneu has a brother 
that is less powerful than himself, and who is opposed to 
him, and every one that is or wishes to be good ; that this 
Bad Spirit * made all evil things, snakes, wolves, cata- 
mounts, and all other poisonous or noxious animals and 
beasts of prey, except the bear, which, on the account of 
the excellence of its meat for food, and skin for clothing, 
they say was made by Nauwahneu. Besides all this, 
they say he makes and sends them their diseases, bad 
weather, and bad crops ; and that he makes and supports 
witches. He owns a large country adjoining that of his 
brother, with whom he is continually at variance. His 
fields are unproductive ; thick clouds intercept the rays 
of the sun, and consequently destructive frosts are fre- 
quent ; game is very scarce, and not easily taken ; raven- 
ous beasts are numerous ; reptiles of every poisoned tooth 
lie in the path of the traveler; the streams are muddy; 
and hunger, nakedness, and general misery, are severely 
felt by those who unfortunately become his tenants. He 

* H'd"ne°go : ate*geh, the u Evil-minded." — [Ed. 



222 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

takes pleasure in afflicting the Indians here, and, after 
their death, receives all those into his dreary dominions 
who, in their lifetime have been so vile as to be rejected 
by Nauwahneu, under whose eye they are continued in 
an uncomfortable state for ever. To this source of evil 
they offer some oblations, to abate his vengeance, and 
render him propitious. They, however, believe him to be, 
in a degree, under subjection to his brother, and incapable 
of executing his plans only by his high permission. Pub- 
lic religious duties are attended to in the celebration of 
particular festivals and sacrifices, which are observed with 
circumspection, and attended with decorum. In each 
year they have five feasts,* or stated times for assembling 
in their tribes, and giving thanks to Nauwahneu, for the 
blessings which they have received from his kind, liberal, 

* " Six regular festivals, or ' thanksgivings,' were observed by the 
Iroquois. The first in the order of time was the Maple festival. This 
was a return of thanks to the maple itself, for yielding its sweet waters. 
Next was the Planting festival, designed chiefly as an invocation of the 
Great Spirit to bless the seed. Third came the Strawberry festival, 
instituted as a thanksgiving for the first fruits of the earth. The 
fourth was the Green Corn festival, designed as a thanksgiving 
acknowledgement for the ripening of the corn, beans, and squashes. 
Next was celebrated the Harvest festival, instituted as a general 
thanksgiving to ( our supporters, 7 after the gathering of the harvest. 
Last in the enumeration is placed the New Year's festival, the great 
jubilee of the Iroquois, at which the white dog was sacrificed." — 
[League of the Iroquois, p. 183. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 223 

and provident hand ; and also to converse upon the best 
means of meriting a continuance of his favors. The first 
of these feasts is immediately after they have finished 
sugaring, at which time they give thanks for the favorable 
weather and great quantity of sap they have had, and 
for the sugar that they have been allowed to make for the 
benefit of their families. At this, as at all the succeeding 
feasts, the chiefs arise singly, and address the audience in 
a kind of exhortation, in which they express their own 
thankfulness, urge the necessity and propriety of general 
gratitude, and point out the course which ought to be 
pursued by each individual, in order that Nauwahneu may 
continue to bless them, and that the evil spirit may be 
defeated. 

On these occasions the chiefs describe a perfectly 
straight line, half an inch wide, and perhaps ten miles 
long, which they direct their people to travel upon, by 
placing one foot before the other, with the heel of one 
foot on the toe of the other ; and so on till they arrive at 
the end. The meaning of which is, that they must not 
turn aside to the right hand or to the left into the paths 
of vic£ ; but keep straight ahead in the way of well-doing, 
that will lead them to the paradise of ISTauwahneu. 

The second feast is after planting ; when they render 
thanks for the pleasantness of the season ; for the good 
time they have had for preparing their ground and plant- 



224 LIFE OP MARY JEMISON. 

ing their corn ; and are instructed by their chiefs by what 
means to merit a good harvest. 

When the green corn becomes fit for use, they hold 
their third or green corn feast. Their fourth is celebrated 
after corn harvest ; and the fifth at the close of their 
year, and is always celebrated at the time of the old moon 
in the last of January or first of February. This last 
deserves particular description. 

The Indians having returned from hunting, and having 
brought in all the venison and skins that they have taken, 
a committee is appointed, consisting of from ten to twenty 
active men, to superintend the festivities of the great 
sacrifice and thanksgiving that is to be immediately cele- 
brated. This being done, preparations are made at the 
council-house, or place of meeting, for the reception and 
accommodation of the whole tribe ; and then the cere- 
monies are commenced ; and the whole is conducted with 
a great degree of order and harmony, under the direction 
of the committee. 

Two white dogs, without spot or blemish, are selected, 
(if such can be found, and if not, two that have the fewest 
spots,) from those belonging to the tribe, and killed near 
the door of the council-house, by being strangled. A 
wound on the animal, or an effusion of blood, would spoil 
the victim, and render the sacrifice useless. The dogs 
are then painted red on their faces, edges of their ears, and 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 225 

on various parts of their bodies, and are curiously decorated 
with ribbons of different colors, and fine feathers, which 
are tied and fastened on in such a manner as to make the 
most elegant appearance. They are then hung on a post 
near the door of the council-house, at the hight of twenty 
feet from the ground. The practice of sacrificing two dogs 
was formerly strictly adhered to, but at present they sacri- 
fice only one. This being done, the frolic is commenced 
by those who are present, while the committee run through 
the tribe, and hurry the people to assemble, by knocking 
on their houses. At this time the committee are naked — 
wearing only a breech-clout — and each carries a paddle, 
with which he takes up ashes, and scatters them about the 
house in every direction. In the course of the ceremonies, 
all the fire is extinguished in every hut throughout the 
tribe, and new fire, struck from the flint on each hearth, is 
kindled, after having removed the whole of the ashes, old 
coals, etc. Having done this, and discharged one or two 
guns, they go on ; and in this manner they proceed till they 
have visited every house in the tribe. This finishes the 
business of the first day. 

On the second day, the committee dance, go through the 
town with bearskin on their legs ; and at every time they 
start they fire a gun. They also beg through the tribe, 
each carrying a basket in which to receive whatever may 
be bestowed. The alms consist of Indian tobacco, and 



226 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

other articles that are used for incense or sacrifice. Each 
manager, at this time, carries a dried tortoise or turtle 
shell, containing a few beans, which he frequently rubs on 
the walls of the houses, both inside and out. This kind 
of manoeuvring by the committee continues two or three 
days, during which time the people at the council-house 
recreate themselves by dancing. 

On the fourth or fifth day, the committee make false 
faces of the husks, in which they run about, making a 
frightful but ludicrous appearance. In this dress, still 
wearing the bearskin, they run to the council-house, smear- 
ing themselves with dirt, and bedaub every one who refuses 
to contribute something toward filling the basket of in- 
cense, which they continue to carry, soliciting alms. Dur- 
ing all this time, they collect the Evil Spirit, or drive it 
off entirely, for the present, and also concentrate within 
themselves all the sins of their tribe, however numerous 
or heinous. 

On the eighth or ninth day, the committee having 
received all their sins, as before observed, into their 
own bodies, they take down the dogs ; and after having 
transfused the whole of them into one of their own num- 
ber, he, by a peculiar sleight of hand, or kind of magic, 
works them all out of himself into the dogs. The dogs, 
thus loaded with all the sins of the people, are placed 
upon a pile of wood, that is directly set on fire. Here 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 227 

they are burned, together with the sins with which 
they were loaded, surrounded by the multitude, who 
throw incense of tobacco, or the like, into the fire, the 
scent of which, they say, goes up to Nauwahneu, to whom 
it is pleasant and acceptable* 

* " On the morning of the fifth day, soon after dawn, the white dog 
was burned on an altar of wood, erected by the " keepers of the faith," 
near the council-house. It is difficult, from outward observation, to 
draw forth the true intent with which the dog was burned. The ob- 
scurity with which the object was veiled has led to various conjec- 
tures. Among other things, it has been pronounced a sacrifice for 
sin. In the religious system of the Iroquois there is no recognition 
of the doctrine of atonement for sin, or of the absolution or forgive- 
ness of sins. Upon this whole subject their system is silent. An act 
once done, was registered beyond the power of change. The greatest 
advance upon this point of faith was, the belief that good deeds can- 
celled the evil, thus placing heaven, through good works, within the 
reach of all. The notion that this was an expiation for sin is thus 
refuted by their system of theology itself. The other idea, that the 
sins of the people, by some mystic process, were transferred to the 
dog, and by him thus borne away, on the principle of the scapegoat 
of the Hebrews, is also without any foundation in truth. The burning 
of the dog had not the slightest connection with the sin of the people. 
On the contrary, the simple idea of the sacrifice was, to send up the 
spirit of the dog as a messenger to the Great Spirit, to announce their 
continued fidelity to his service, and, also, to convey to him their 
united thanks for the blessings of the year. The fidelity of the dog, 
the companion of the Indian, as a hunter, was emblematical of their 
fidelity. No messenger so trusty could be found, to bear their peti- 
tions to the Master of Life. The Iroquois believed that the Great 
Spirit made a covenant with their fathers, to the effect that, when 



228 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

This feast formerly continued nine days, but at present 
it is not usually held more than from five to seven, 
although until within a few years nine days were strictly 
observed ; and during that time the chiefs review the 
national affairs of the year past ; agree upon the best plan 
to be pursued through the next year, and attend to all 
internal regulations. 

On the last day, the whole company partake of a dinner 
in common, consisting of meat, corn, and beans, boiled 
together in large kettles, and stirred till the whole is com 
pletely mixed and soft. This mess is devoured without 
much ceremony. Some eat with a spoon, by dipping out 
of the kettles ; others serve themselves in small dippers ; 
some in one way, and some in another, till the whole is 
consumed. After this, they perform the war-dance, the 
peace-dance, and smoke the pipe of peace ; and then, free 
from iniquity, each repairs to his place of abode, prepared 
to commence a new year. In this feast, temperance is 
observed, and commonly order prevails in a greater 
degree than would naturally be expected. 

They are fond of the company of spectators, who are 
disposed to be decent, and treat them politely in their 

they should send up to him the spirit of a dog, of a spotless white, he 
would receive it as a pledge of their adherence to his worship, and his 
ears would thus be opened in a special degree to their petitions." — 
[League of the Iroquois, p. 216. 



DEII-HE-WA-MIS. 229 

way ; but having been frequently imposed upon by the 
whites, they treat them generally with indifference. 

Even their dances appear to be religious rites, espe- 
cially their war and peace dances. The war-dance is 
said to have originated about the time that the Six Na- 
tions, or Northern Indians, commenced the old war with 
the Oherokees and other southern Indian nations, about 
one hundred years ago. 

"When a tribe, or a number of tribes, of the Six Nations 
had assembled for the purpose of going to battle with 
their enemies, the chiefs sang this song, and accompa- 
nied the music with dancing, and gestures that corre- 
sponded with the sentiments expressed, as a kind of stim- 
ulant to increase their courage and anxiety, to march 
forward to the place of carnage. 

Those days having passed away, the Indians at this 
day sing the " war-song," to commemorate the achieve- 
ments of their fathers, and as a kind of amusement, 
When they perform it, they arm themselves with a war- 
club, tomahawk, and knife, and commence singing with a 
firm voice, and a stern, resolute countenance ; but before 
they get through, they exhibit in their features and 
actions the most shocking appearance of anger, fury, and 
vengeance, that can be imagined. No exhibition of the 
kind can be more terrifying to a stranger. 



230 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

The peace-dance is performed to a tune without words, 
by both sexes. The Indians stand erect, in one place, 
and strike the floor with the heel and toes of one foot, 
and then of the other, (the heels and toes all the while 
nearly level,) without changing their position in the least. 
The squaws at the same time perform it, by keeping the 
feet close together, and, without raising them from the 
ground, move a short distance to the right, and then to 
left, by first moving their toes, and then their heels. This 
dance is beautiful, and is generally attended with decency. 

No people on earth appear to be so strictly moral — 
in conformity to their laws and customs — as the North 
American Indians generally, in their intercourse between 
the sexes. The several nations have different forms of 
approaching to courtship and marriage, which, however, 
are all very similar — most of the tribes tolerate and 
practice polygamy and divorce ; some, however, do not. 
Among the Senecas, both are tolerated, and practiced to 
some extent. 

For neither marriage nor divorce is there any particu- 
lar form or ceremony, other than when an Indian sees a 
squaw wiiom he fancies, he sends a present to her mother 
or parents, who, on receiving it, consult with his parents, 
his friends, and each other, on the propriety and expe- 
diency of the proposed connection. If it is not agreeable, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 231 

the present is returned; but if it is, the lover is informed 
of his good fortune, and immediately goes to live with 
her, or takes her to a hut of his own preparing * 

* "Marriage was not founded upon the affections, which constitute 
the only legitimate basi3 of this relation in civilized society, but was 
regulated exclusively as a matter of physical necessity. It was not 
even a contract between the parties to be married ; but substantially 
between their mothers, acting oftentimes under the suggestions of the 
matrons and wise men of the tribes to which the parties respectively 
belonged. 

* * * When the mother considered her son of a suitable age 
for marriage, she looked about her for a maiden, whom, from report or 
acquaintance, she judged would accord with him in disposition and 
temperament. A negotiation between the mothers ensued, and a con- 
clusion was speedily reached. Sometimes the near relatives, and the 
elderly persons of the tribes to which each belonged, were consulted; 
but their opinions were of no avail, independently of the wishes of the 
mothers themselves. Xot the least singular feature of the transaction 
was the entire ignorance in which the parties remained of the pending 
negotiation ; the first intimation they received being the announce- 
ment of their marriage, without, perhaps, ever having known or seen 
each other. Remonstrance or objection on their part was never 
attempted ; they received each other as the gift of their parents. As 
obedience to them in all their requirements was inculcated as a para- 
mount duty, and disobedience was followed by disownment, the opera- 
tive force of custom, in addition to these motives, was sufficient to 
secure acquiescence. The Indian father never troubled himself con- 
cerning the marriage of his children. To interfere would have been 
an invasion of female immunities ; and these, whatever they were, were 
as sacredly regarded by him, as he was inflexible in enforcing respect 
for his own. * * * * 

"From the very nature of the marriage institution among the Iroquois, 



232 LIFE OF MARY JExAIISON. 

If a difficulty of importance arises between a married 
couple, they agree to separate. They divide their prop- 
erty and children ; the squaw takes the girls, the Indian 
the boys, and both are at liberty to marry again. 

From all history and tradition, it would appear that 
neither seduction, prostitution, nor rape, w T as known in 
the calendar of crimes of this rude savage race, until the 
females were contaminated by the embrace of civilized 
man. And it is a remarkable fact, that, among the great 
number of women and girls who have been taken prison- 
ers by the Indians during the last two centuries, although 

it follows that the passion of love was entirely unknown among them. 
Affection after marriage would naturally spring up between the parties, 
from association, from habit, and from mutual dependence ; but of that 
marvelous passion which originates in a higher development of the 
powers of the human heart, and is founded upon a cultivation of the 
affections between the sexes, they were entirely ignorant. In their 
temperaments they were below this passion in its simplest forms. 

" Attachments between individuals, or the cultivation of each other's 
affections before marriage, was entirely unknown ; so also were pro- 
mises of marriage. The fact that individuals were united in this rela- 
tion, without their knowledge or consent, and perhaps without even a 
previous acquaintance, illustrates and confirms this position. This in- 
vasion of the romances of the novelist, and of the conceits of the poet, 
upon the attachments which sprang up in the bosom of Indian society, 
may, perhaps, divest the mind of some pleasing impressions ; but these 
are entirely inconsistent with the marriage institution, as it existed 
among them, and with the facts of their social history." — [League of 
the Iroquois, pp. 320-323. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 233 

they have often been tomahawked and scalped, their bod- 
ies ripped open while alive, and otherwise barbarously 
tortured, not a single instance is on record, or has ever 
found currency in the great stock of gossip and story 
which civilized society is so prone to circulate, that a fe- 
male prisoner has ever been ill-treated, abused, or her 
modesty insulted, by an Indian, with reference to her sex. 
This universal trait in the Indian character £an not be 
wholly, if in the least, attributed to the cold temperament 
of their constitutions — the paucity of their animal func- 
tions, or w^ant of natural propensities — for polygamy is 
not only tolerated but extensively indulged in, among 
nearly all the North American tribes. Of this we have 
the most abundant proof, not relying solely on the testi- 
mony of Mrs. Jemison, who states that it was tolerated 
and practiced in the Seneca nation, but on the statements 
of all writers on that subject, and of all travelers and 
sojourners in the Indian country. 

Major Marston, commanding officer at the U. S. Fort 
Armstrong, in the North-western Territory, in 1820, in an 
official report to our government, relative to the condition, 
customs, religion, etc. of the various tribes of the North- 
western Indians, states, that " many of these Indians have 
two or three wives; the greatest number that I have 
known any man to have at one time, was five. When an 

Indian wants more than one wife, he generally prefers 
15 J* 



234 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

that they be sisters, as they are more likely to agree, and 
live together in harmony. A man of fifty or sixty years 
old, who has two or three wives, will frequently marry a 
girl of sixteen.' ' 

On the other hand, this abstemiousness can not be at- 
tributed to the dictates of moral virtue, as that would be 
in direct opposition to all their other traits of character. 
And, again, no society or race of men exists, so purely 
moral, but that, if there was any crime within their power 
to perpetrate, to which they were prompted by their 
passions, some one or more would be guilty of commiting 
it, if restrained by moral virtue only. 

Therefore we are driven to the conclusion, that the 
young warrior has been taught and trained up from his 
infancy, to subdue this passion ; and to effect that object, 
he has been operated upon by some direful, superstitious 
awe, and appalling fear of the consequences of the vio- 
lation of female chastity ; and, with the same anathema 
held to his view, taught to avoid temptation, by demean- 
ing himself perfectly uninquisitive and modest, in the 
presence of females, and especially female prisoners. It 
is not supposed, however, that great exertions are made 
at the present day, to instill those prejudices, if I may be 
allowed so to apply the word, into the Indian youth, for 
those dicta have been so long promulgated, and obedience 
thereto so rigidly enforced, through so many generations 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 235 

that they have become an inborn characteristic of the 
race. 

We can easily perceive the policy of the ancient found- 
ers of this precautionary branch of savage education, and 
it is worthy of the paternity of a Solon. By this precau- 
tion, jealousy, feucls, strife, and bloodshed, are avoided 
among the warriors, while they are out on their predatory 
excursions, stealthily seizing prisoners, scalps, or plunder 
by night, or warily and noiselessly winding their course 
through the forest by day. 



236 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER XVIII* 

Life of Mary continued — Seneca Reservations sold in 1825 — Is left 
among the whites — Discontented — Sold her remaining reserva- 
tion, and removed to Buffalo creek — Professes Christianity — Her 
death — Is buried near the Mission church — Description of her 
tombstone — Her descendants. 

More than eighteen years have elapsed since Mary 
Jemison related the preceding narrative of her life, and 
most of its appendages, to our deceased friend, the au- 
thor of the first edition; during which period many im- 
portant incidents have transpired, and material changes 
taken place involving the destiny of the principal sub- 
ject of this memoir, her family and friends, although 
none very remarkable or unexpected. 

Mary Jemison continued to reside on her flats, plant, 
hoe, and harvest her corn, beans, squashes, etc., annually, 
in the same routine of laborious activity and undisturbed 
tranquility, which she had always pursued and enjoyed, 
in times of peace in the nation, and concord in her family. 
But the evening of her eventful life was not suffered 
thus smoothly to pass away. The Senecas having sold 
all their reservations on the Genesee River in 1825, and 

* This chapter was written by Ebenezer Mix, Esqr. 




SHOWING HER HOUSE, AND MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 239 

given possession to the whites soon after, they removed 
with their families to Tonawanda, Buffalo Creek, and 
Cattaraugus reservations, leaving Mrs. Jemison, her 
daughters, and their husbands, on her two square miles, 
surrounded by the whites in every direction. Thus situ- 
ated, she and her children grew as discontented and un- 
easy, as Alexander Selkirk was on the Island of Juan 
Fernandez. 

They determined to leave their solitary and isolated 
abode among the whites, and again join their tribe, mix 
in the society, and partake of the joys and the sorrows 
of their kindred and friends. With this in view, Mrs. 
Jemison sold her annuity of three hundred dollars per 
annum, or rather, received of the obligors a commutation 
therefor, in ready money. She likewise sold her remain- 
ing two square miles of land, including her "flats," to 
Messrs. Henry B. Gibson and Jellis Clute. In the sum- 
mer of 1831, she removed to Buffalo Creek reservation, 
where she purchased the Indian possessory right to a good 
farm on the Buffalo Flats, on which she resided in a state 
of peace and quietude, until the time of her decease. 

Mrs. Jemison's good traits of character were not 
wholly of the negative kind ; she exhibited a rare exam- 
ple of unostentatious charity and true benevolence. She 
appeared to take pleasure and self-satisfaction in reliev- 
ing the distress, and supplying the wants of her §*#&%* 



240 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

creatures, whether white or red; any thing she possessed, 
however much labor it might have cost her, was freely 
given, when she thought the necessities of others required 
it. It would redound much to the honor of the Christian 
religion, if some of its members would pattern, in some 
measures, after the pagan woman, in practicing this most 
exalted of Christian virtues, charity, in feelings as well as 
in actions. 

The bodily infirmities of old age gradually increased 
in Mrs. Jemison, and enervated her frame ; yet she re- 
tained her reason and mental faculties to an uncommon 
extent, for a person of her age ; and her society was not 
only endurable, but rendered highly interesting and de- 
sirable, by her natural exuberant flow of animal spirits 
and good nature. In the summer of 1833, she, in a peacea- 
ble and friendly manner, seceded from the pagan party of 
her nation, and joined the Christian party, having in her 
own view, and to the satisfaction of her spiritual instruc- 
tor, the Rev. Asher Wright, missionary at that station, 
repudiated paganism, and embraced the Christian religion. 
In the autumn succeeding, she was attacked by disease 
for almost the first time in her protracted pilgrimage, and 
dropped away suddenly from the scenes of this life, on 
the 19th day of September, 1833. at her own dwelling on 
the Buffalo Creek reservation, aged about ninety-one years. 
Her funeral was conducted after the manner, and with 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 241 

! 
the usual ceremonies practiced at Christian burials ; 

and was attended by a large concourse of people. A 
marble slab now marks the spot where her earthly re- 
mains rest, in the graveyard near the Seneca Mission 
church, with the following inscription : 



In 

Memory of 

The White Woman, 

MARY JEMISON, 

Daughter of 

Thomas Jemison & Jane Irwin, 

Born on the ocean, between Ireland and Phila., in 1742 or 3. Taken 

captive at Marsh Creek, Pa. in IT 55 carried down the Ohio, Adopted 

into an Indian family. In 1759 removed to Genesee River. Was 

naturalized in 1817. 

Removed to this place in 1831. 

And having survived two husbands and five children, leaving three 

still alive ; 

She Died Sept 19th 1833 aged about ninety-one years, 

Having a few weeks before expressed a hope of pardon through 

Jesus Christ, 

" The counsel of the Lord that shall stand." 



Mrs. Jemison's three children, Betsey, Nancy, and 
Polly, who survived her, all lived respected, and died re- 
gretted, at their several places of residence on the Seneca 
reservations, in the short space of three months, in the 
autumn of 1839, aged, respectively, sixty-nine, sixty-three, 
11 



242 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

and fifty-eight years, leaving a large number of children 
and grandchildren to lament their loss. 

Jacob Jemison, the grandson of Mrs. Jemison, men- 
tioned by her in Chapter X, as having received a liberal 
education, and having commenced the study of medicine, 
passed through a regular course of medical studies, with 
great success, and was appointed an assistant surgeon in 
the United States Navy ; in which capacity he sustained 
an excellent moral, social, and professional character, 
which requires no stronger confirmation, than the laconic 
eulogium pronounced by Capt. E., the commander of the 
vessel on board of which he performed duty. Capt. E., 
being asked by a gentleman who had known Jemison 
when a boy, how he sustained the character of his situ- 
ation, promptly replied : " There is no person on board 
the ship so generally esteemed as Mr. Jemison, nor a 
better surgeon in the navy." Dr. Jemison died five or 
six years ago, on board his ship in the Mediterranean 
squadron, when about forty years of age. 

Several of the grandchildren of Mrs. Jemison, now 
living, are highly respected in their nation ; while their 
talents and moral standing are duly appreciated, and their 
civilities reciprocated among the whites. They have ac- 
quired the use of the English language sufficiently to 
speak it fluently, and have adopted the dress, habits, and 
manners of civilized society. Her grandchildren and 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 243 

great-grandchildren are numerous : they reside on the 
remaining Seneca reservations in this state, at present ; 
but will, undoubtedly, ere long, take their departure from 
the land of their fathers, and assume important positions 
in legislative and judicial stations in the new Indian terri- 
tory west of the Mississippi.* 

I * " The author, in his boyhood, has often seen the 'White Woman,' 
as she was uniformly called by the early settlers ; and remembers well 
the general esteem in which she was held. 

Notwithstanding she had one son who was a terror to Indians as 
well as to the early white settlers, she has left many descendants who 
are not unworthy of her good name. Jacob Jemison, a grandson of 
hers, received a liberal education, passed through a course of medical 
studies, and was appointed assistant surgeon in the United States Navy. 
He died on board of his ship in the Mediterranean." [Turner's Hist. 
or the Holland Purchase, p. 295. 



244 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Confederacy of the Iroquois — Extent of their possessions — Hed 
Jacket — Sales of reservations — Ogden Land Company — Govern- 
ment policy of removal west of the Mississippi — The ultimate ex- 
tinction of the Red race. 

History and tradition alike inform us that the Mo- 
hawks, the Oneidas, the Cayugas, and the Senecas, had, 
from time immemorial, formed themselves into a great 
confederacy, strictly adhering to an offensive and defensive 
alliance. They occupied, for their dwelling grounds, a 
wide-spread territory, extending from near the banks of 
the Hudson to the shores of Lake Erie, and from the 
mouth of the Alleghany to the confines of the St. Law- 
rence. This tract comprises a greater body of more fertile 
land, combined with a temperate and healthy climate, 
great facilities of water communication - — not only within 
the territory, but extending from it in all directions — 
with extensive hunting grounds and fisheries, than any 
other tract of the same extent in North America, 

This territory is admirably adapted to the occupation 
of a roving and migratory people, who depend more on 
the chase and on the spontaneous productions of nature 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 245 

for sustenance, than on agriculture and the regular pro- 
ductions of labor. Beside this vast domain for a resi- 
dence, they claimed an exclusive right to all that region 
of country between the Ohio River and Lake Erie, (now 
the State of Ohio,) for a spacious hunting ground ; and 
the martial prowess of that mighty confederacy enabled 
them promptly to repel any intrusion from other tribes. 
They were indeed a mighty people — whose forces could 
be seen, and whose power could be felt, and often was 
felt, from the banks of the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of 
Mexico, and from the tides of the Hudson to the banks of 
the Mississippi. Until the year 1712, this people were 
called by the English " The Five Nations," or "The 
Confederates;" by the French, "The Iroquois;" by the 
Dutch, "The Maquas;" and by themselves " The Min- 
goes."* During that year, the Tuscaroras, whose habita- 
tion had been in the west part of North Carolina, after 
some disturbances with the whites in that region, evacu- 
ated their possessions in that colony, removed to Western 
New York, and .were adopted by the Mingoes as a sixth 
nation. They lived between the Oneidas and Onondagas, 
on lands assigned them for a residence by the former ; 

* This is an error of the author. The Iroquois never called them- 
selves the Mingoes, but always the Ho^de-no-san-nee, or " The People 
of the Long House." They likened their confederacy to a "long 
house," — [En. 



246 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

after which, the English usually denominated the con- 
federates "The Six Nations."* 

In 1784, soon after peace had been ratified between 
the United States and Great Britain, a treaty of peace and 
amnesty was concluded between the United States and 
the Six Nations, in which their territorial limits were de- 
fined ; to wit, they were to possess all the State of New 
York west of what was called the " Property Line," with 
the exception of two reservations — one of six miles 
square, including Fort Oswego ; and the other, along the 
Niagara Eiver, about thirty-five miles long and four 
miles wide, including forts Niagara and Schlosser, and 
the Portage road from Lake Ontario to Lake Erie. The 
Property Line here referred to was a line commencing 
at the north-east corner of Pennsylvania, and running in 
its general course a little east of north, crossing the Mo- 
hawk River, at or near the place where the division line 

* The names of the several nations, in the Seneca dialect, are as 
follows : — 

1. Mohawk Nation — Ga-ne-a'-ga-o-no' : or, People, Possessors of 
the Flint. 

2. Onondaga Nation — O-nun' -da-ga-o-no' ; or, People on the Hills. 

3. Seneca Nation — Nun-da' -wa-o-no' ; or, Great Hill People. 

4. Oneida Nation — O-na' -yote-ka-o-no' ; or, Granite People. 

5. Cayuga Nation — Gwe~u'-gweh«o~no ! ; or, People at the Mucky 
Land. 

6. Tuscarora Nation — Dus-ga 1 o-weh-o-no' : or, Shirt-Wearing 
People, 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 247 

of the counties of Herkimer and Oneida now crosses the 
same. They were likewise to retain a part of Pennsyl- 
vania, but were required to cede to the United States 
their extensive hunting-grounds north of the Ohio, which 
met with violent opposition from many of the Indian 
chiefs and orators, but was finally acquiesced in by the 
council. It was on this occasion that the celebrated Red 
Jacket, then a youth, opened the flood-gates of his elo- 
quence, and poured forth its magic powers, to sustain 
the then gradually declining, yet still lofty elevation of 
his people ; and to check the encroachments of the whites 
on their territorial demesnes, which his prophetic mind 
clearly saw would, at no distant day, if not effectually 
opposed, prostrate their empire, and eradicate their race 
as a distinct people. 

At different periods, from that time to the present, the 
several nations have ceded large portions of their lands to 
this state, and to persons holding the preemption right 
under the government; out of which, in most cases, they 
retained for themselves small reservations. In 1797, the 
last great sale was made by the Senecas to Eobert 
Morris, being the extreme western part of the state — 
reducing the once extensive possessions of the Mingoes to 
a few small, detached reservations. The Senecas in this 
sale reserved the following tracts : the Cannewagus, Big- 
tree, Little Beard's, Squawkie Hill, Gardeau, and Cane- 



248 LIFE OF MAEY JEMISON. 

adea, all lying on the Genesee River; the Oil Spring, 
Alleghany, Cattaraugus, Buffalo Creek, Tonawanda and 
Tuscarora reservations; containing in the whole about 
three hundred and thirty-seven square miles. The Tus- 
caroras had a donation from the Holland Land Company, 
of two square miles ; and in 1804 they purchased of the 
same company 4,329 acres, for which they paid $13,752, 
in cash. 

In 1825 the Senecas held a eouncil, at which they sold 
and ceded to the persons claiming the preemption right 
to the same, all their reservations on the Genesee Eiver, 
(the Gardeau reservation excepted, that being a special 
concern,) the Oil-Spring reservation, and portions of the 
Cattaraugus, Buffalo Creek, and Tonawanda reservations ; 
leaving less than one hundred and ninety square miles in 
Alleghany, Cattaraugus, Buffalo Creek, Tonawanda, and 
Tuscarora reservations. 

In 1838, another treaty was held by the Senecas and 
Tuscaroras, at which the Senecas, (or a portion of their 
chiefs,) and the Tuscaroras, agreed to sell to the preemp- 
tion right owners, called the Ogden Land Company, the 
residue of their reservations in western New York, and 
emigrate, within five years, to other lands, which they 
were to receive in exchange, lying in the Indian territory 
west of the Mississippi ; since which, a violent warfare 
has been carried on, not only orally, but through period- 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 249 

icals and pamphlets, using petitions, memorials, and re- 
monstrances to the United States government, for their 
heavy artillery, by a portion of the Senecas, (and prob- 
ably a majority,) a few restless spirits among the whites, 
who always hang around the borders of Indian settlements, 
and the New York, Pennsylvania, and Maryland Quakers, 
on the one hand; who insist that, although the grossest 
bribery and corruption has been resorted to, the treaty 
has not been executed in council, according to the usages 
and customs of the Indians, nor has it been confirmed 
according to the laws of the United States ; while on the 
other hand, the Ogden Land Company, their retainers, 
and a portion of the Senecas, backed by another class of 
worthless whites, insist that the treaty has been formally 
executed by all the parties, and that as few bribes have 
been distributed as is usual on such occasions. 

If the only object of the nullifiers was to procure for 
the Indians an equivalent for their trouble and privations, 
in making exchange of lands, their proceedings might be 
justifiable; but they insist that the poor Indians shall not 
emigrate. It certainly can not be of any great impor- 
tance to the individuals of this remnant of the race, 
whether they are removed by the government, or whether 
they remain where they now are; provided, that in adopt- 
ing either course, they do it willingly and cheerfully; and 

it cannot be doubted but that, if they had been left to the 
11* 



250 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

unbiased volition of their own minds, the Senecas, as a 
body, would have accepted with joy, the proposition of 
the government for their removal. 

The Indians should be honestly and honorably dealt 
with, and their rights should be guarded with vigilance, 
and protected with firmness and effect; but as the Unit- 
ed States government has adopted the policy of inducing 
all the Indians, within the territory of the several states, 
to leave their present abode, and retire, with the aid, and 
under the fostering care and protection of that govern- 
ment, to a country peculiarly adapted to their wants, 
habits, and mode of life, where no state jurisdiction can 
ever interfere with their laws, customs, and peculiarities, 
it is the duty of the citizens to assist the government in 
carrying its measures into effect, as far as they can do so, 
honestly and honorably; or at least, to remain neutral 
in relation thereto, and not undertake to thwart the 
measures of government, and at the same time render 
the pretended objects of their care more miserable than 
they otherwise would be ; or we will venture to predict, 
that, notwithstanding the most vigorous exertions of such 
philanthropists to the contrary, the time is not far distant, 
when the Genius of the Empire State will behold the last 
of the Iroquois wending his way toward the setting sun. 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 25 1 



CONCLUDING NOTE. 

FROM "LEAGUE OF THE IROQUOIS." 

Future destiny of the Indian — His reclamation — Schools of the 
missionaries — The Christian party — Schools of the state — Future 
citizenship — Their indebtedness to missionaries — Rights of pro- 
perty — Injustice of neglect — System of superintendence — Duty 
of the American people — The Indian Department. 

The future destiny of the Indian upon this continent 
is a subject of no ordinary interest. If the fact that he 
can not be saved in his native state needed any proof be- 
yond the experience of the past, it could be demonstrated 
from the nature of things. Our primitive inhabitants are 
environed with civilized life, the baleful and disastrous 
influence of vrhich, when brought in contact with Indian 
life, is wholly irresistible. Civilization is aggressive as 
well as progressive — a positive state of society, attack- 
ing every obstacle, overwhelming every lesser agency, 
and searching out and filling up every crevice, both in 
the moral and physical world ; while Indian life is an un- 
armed condition, a negative state, without inherent vital- 
ity, and without powers of resistance. The institutions 

of the red man fix him to the soil with a fragile and pre- 
16 K - 



252 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

carious tenure ; while those of civilized man, in his high- 
est estate, enable him to seize it with a grasp which de- 
fies displacement. To uproot a race at the meridian of 
its intellectual power, is next to impossible ; but the ex- 
pulsion of a contiguous one, in a state of primitive rude- 
ness, is comparatively easy, if not an absolute necessity. 
The manifest destiny of the Indian, if left to himself, 
calls up the question of his reclamation, certainly, in it- 
self, a more interesting, and far more important subject 
than any which have before been considered. All the 
Indian races now dwelling within the Eepublic have fall- 
en under its jurisdiction ; thus casting upon the govern- 
ment a vast responsibility, as the administrator of their 
affairs, and a solemn trust, as the guardian of their future 
welfare. Should the system of tutelage and supervision 
adopted by the national government find its highest aim 
and ultimate object in the adjustment of their present 
difficulties from day to day, or should it look beyond and 
above these temporary considerations, toward their final 
elevation to the rights and privileges of American citi- 
zens ? This is certainly a grave question, and if the lat- 
ter enterprise itself be feasible, it should be prosecuted 
with a zeal and energy as earnest and untiring as its im- 
portance demands. During the period within which this 
question will be solved, the American people can not 
remain indifferent and passive spectators, and avoid res- 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 253 

ponsibility; for while the government is chiefly accounta- 
ble for the administration of their civil affairs, those of a 
moral and religions character, which, at least, are not less 
important, appeal to the enlightened benevolence of the 
public at large. 

Whether a portion of the Indian family may yet be 
reclaimed and civilized, and thus saved eventually from 
the fate which has already befallen so many of our abor- 
iginal races, will furnish the theme for a few concluding 
reflections. What is true of the Iroquois, in a general 
sense, can be predicted of any other portion of our prim- 
itive inhabitants. For this reason, the facts relied upon 
to establish the hypothesis that the Indian can be perma- 
nently reclaimed and civilized, will be drawn exclusively 
from the social history of the former. 

There are now about four thousand Iroquois living in 
the State of Xew York. Having for many years been 
surrounded by civilization, and shut in from all inter- 
course with the ruder tribes of the wilderness, they have 
not only lost their native fierceness, but have become 
quite tractable and humane. In addition to this, the ag- 
ricultural pursuits into which they have gradually be- 
come initiated, have introduced new modes of life, and 
awakened new aspirations, until a change, in itself 
scarcely perceptible to the casual observer, but in reality 
very great, has already been accomplished. At the pres- 



254 LIFE OF MARY JEMISOK. 

ent moment their decline has not only been arrested, but 
they are actually increasing in numbers, and improving 
in their social condition. The proximate cause of this 
universal spectacle is to be found in their feeble attempts 
at agriculture ; but the remote and the true one is to be 
discovered in the schools of the missionaries. 

To these establishments among the Iroquois, from 
the days of the Jesuit fathers down to the present time, 
they are principally indebted for all the progress they 
. have made, and for whatever prospect of ultimate recla- 
mation their condition is beginning to inspire. By the 
missionaries they were taught our language, and many 
of the arts of husbandry, and of domestic life ; from them 
they received the Bible and the precepts of Christianity. 
After the lapse of so many years, the fruits of their toil 
and devotion are becoming constantly more apparent : 
as, through years of slow and almost imperceptible pro- 
gress, they have gradually emancipated themselves from 
much of the rudeness of Indian life. The Iroquois of the 
present day is, in his social condition, elevated far above 
the Iroquois of the seventeenth century. This fact is 
sufficient to prove that philanthropy and Christianity are 
not wasted upon the Indian; and further than this, that 
the Iroquois, if eventually reclaimed, must ascribe their 
preservation to the persevering and devoted efforts of 
those missionaries, who labored for their welfare when 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 255 

they were injured and defrauded by the unscrupulous, 
neglected by the civil authorities, and oppressed by the 
multitude of misfortunes which accelerated their decline. 
There are but two means of rescuing the Indian from 
his impending destiny; and these are education and 
Christianity. If he will receive into his mind the light 
of knowledge, and the spirit of civilization, he will pos- 
sess, not only the means of self-defense, but the power 
with which to emancipate himself from the thraldom in 
which he is held. The frequent attempts which have 
been made to educate the Indian, and the numerous fail- 
ures in which these attempts have eventuated, have, to 
some extent, created a belief in the public mind, that his 
education and reclamation are both impossible. This 
enterprise may still, perhaps, be considered an experi- 
ment, and of uncertain issue ; but experience has not yet 
shown that it is hopeless. There is now, in each Indian 
community in the state, a large and respectable class who 
have become habitual cultivators of the soil ; many of 
whom have adopted our mode of life, have become mem- 
bers of the missionary churches, speak our language, and 
are in every respect, discreet and sensible men. In this 
particular class there is a strong desire for the adoption 
of the customs of civilized life, and more especially for 
the education of their children, upon which subject they 
often express the strongest solicitude. Among the youth 



256 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

who are brought up under such influences, there exists 
the same desire for knowledge, and the same readiness to ■ 
improve educational advantages. Out of this class Indian 
youth may be selected for a higher education, with every 
prospect of success, since to a better preparation for supe- 
rior advantages, there is superadded a stronger security 
against a relapse into Indian life. In the attempted edu- 
cation of their young men, the prime difficulty has been 
to render their attainments permanent, and useful to 
themselves. To draw an untutored Indian from his 
forest home, and, when carefully educated, to dismiss him 
again to the wilderness, a solitary scholar, would be an 
idle experiment ; because his attainments would not only 
be unappreciated by his former associates, but he would 
incur the hazard of being despised because of them. The 
education of the Indian youth should be general, and 
chiefly in schools at home. 

A new order of things has recently become apparent 
among the Iroquois, which is favorable to a more general 
education at home, and to a higher cultivation in partic- 
ular instances. The schools of the missionaries, estab- 
lished as they have been, and are, in the heart of our 
Indian communities, have reached the people directly, 
and laid the only true and solid foundation of their per- 
manent improvement. They have created a new society 
in the midst of them, founded upon Christianity ; thereby 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 257 

awakening new desires, creating new habits, and arousing 
new aspirations. In fact, they have gathered together 
the better elements of Indian society, and quickened them 
with the light of religion and of knowledge. A class has 
thus been gradually formed, which, if encouraged and 
strengthened, will eventually draw over to itself that 
portion of our Indian population which is susceptible of 
improvement and elevation, and willing to make the at- 
tempt. Under the fostering care of the government, both 
state and national, and under the still more efficient tute- 
lage of religious societies, great hopes may be justly 
entertained of the ultimate and permanent civilization 
of this portion of the Iroquois. 

It is, indeed, a great undertaking to work off the Indian 
temper of mind, and infuse that of another race. It is 
necessary, to its accomplishment, to commence in infancy, 
and at the missionary school, where our language is sub- 
stituted for the Indian language, our religion for the 
Indian mythology, and our amusements and mode of life 
for theirs. When this has been effected, and upon a 
mind thus prepared has been shed the light of a higher 
knowledge, there is not even then a firm assurance that 
the Indian nature is forever subdued, and submerged in 
that superior one which civilization creates. In the 
depths of Indian society there is a spirit and a sentiment 
to which their minds are attuned by nature ; and great 



258 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

must be the power, and constant the influence, which can 
overcome the one, or eradicate the other. 

In the education of the Iroquois, New York has re- 
cently made a commencement. Prior to'1846 our Indian 
youth were excluded from the benefits of the common 
school fund ; their want of preparation for such schools 
furnishing, to some extent, a sufficient reason. At that 
time schools were first opened among them under appro- 
priations from the public fund. These schools have not 
met with encouraging success ; but their efficiency would 
have been much greater if they had been organized upon 
the boarding-school or missionary plan, instead of that 
of the common school. The former is the more prac- 
ticable and successful system of Indian education ; and 
it is greatly to be hoped that it will soon be adopted. 
To meet the growing demand for a higher education, the 
State Normal School, within the past year, has not only 
been opened to a limited number of Indian youth, but a 
sufficient appropriation made for their maintenance while 
improving its advantages. These two important events 
form an interesting era with the modern Iroquois. It 
remains only to give them permanent boarding-schools at 
home for the instruction of the mass of their youth, with 
access to the Normal School for their advanced scholars, 
and in a few years they will rise in the scale of intelli- 
gence, as far above their present level, as their fathers 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 259 

raised themselves, in the days of aboriginal sovereignty, 
above the level of cotemporary nations. 

In addition to the special claim which the residue of 
the Iroquois have upon the people of the state, every 
principle of philanthropy pleads for the encouragement 
of their young men in their efforts to obtain a higher 
course of instruction than the limited earnings of Indian 
husbandry can afford. The time has come, in their social 
progress, when they are capable of a thorough intellectual 
training, and are able to achieve as high and accurate a 
scholarship as many of their white competitors. The 
time has also arrived when academical attainments will 
prove a blessing to themselves and to their families. By 
the diffusion of knowledge among them, the way will be 
facilitated for the introduction of the mechanic arts, and 
for their improvement in agricultural pursuits. A small 
band of educated young men in each Indian community 
would find sufficient employment for their acquired 
capacities, in the various stations of teacher, physician, 
mechanic, and farmer; in each and all of which they 
would greatly promote the general welfare. If the desire 
for improvement, which now prevails among them, is met 
and encouraged, it will require but a few years to initiate 
them into the arts of civilized life, and to prepare them 
eventually for exercising those rights of property, and 
rights of citizenship, which are common to ourselves 



260 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

How much more noble for the state to reclaim and save 
this interesting and peculiar portion of her people, than 
to accelerate their extinction by injustice ; or to abandon 
them to their fate, when they are struggling to emancipate 
themselves by taking into their hands the implements of 
agriculture, and opening their minds to the light of 
knowledge. 

There is no want of sympathy for their welfare among 
the people of New York; on the contrary, there is a 
wide-spread and deep-seated interest in their future recla- 
mation. Whatever can be done to ameliorate their con- ' 
dition, and encourage that portion who have commenced 
the work of their own improvement, would receive the 
warmest commendation. If the Indian puts forth his 
hand for knowledge, he asks for the only blessing which 
we can give him in exchange for his birthright which is 
worthy of his acceptance. 

The education and Christianization of the Iroquois is 
a subject of too much importance, in a civil aspect, to be 
left exclusively to the limited and fluctuating means of 
religious societies. The schools established and sustained 
among them by private benevolence, are, to the Indian, 
almost the same as common schools to our own people ; 
and without them the Indian would, in times past, have 
been denied all means of instruction. These schools 
bring together the youth for elementary tuition, as a 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 261 

necessary preparation for moral and religious training. 
While there, they adopt, in all respects, the habits of 
civilized life, are taught our language, and the more sim- 
ple elementary studies. In so far, it would be but a just 
act of public beneficence to allow those pupils to draw 
the same share of public money which falls to the other 
children of the state. A system of public Indian educa- 
tion, upon such a plan as their circumstances demand, 
should either be adopted by the state, or a portion of 
the public money bearing some proportion to the number 
of Indian pupils, should be placed at the disposal of the 
local missionary, to be expended with an equal portion 
contributed by private benevolence, or by the Indians 
themselves. It is time that our Indian youth were re- 
garded, in all respects, as a part of the children of the 
state, and brought under such a system of tutelage as 
that relation would impose. 

The vast extent of the religious enterprises of the pres- 
ent day has tended to draw the attention of the Christian 
world away from the Indian, into fields more distant, and 
perhaps more attractive. During the past sixty years, 
the Iroquois have received but a small share of the Chris- 
tian watchfulness to which their wants entitle them. 
Faithful and zealous missionaries, it is true, have labored 
among them, producing results far greater than is gene- 
rally believed ; but the inadequate scale upon which these 



262 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

missions were organized, and the fluctuations in their effi- 
ciency, which were inseparable from their irregular and 
limited supplies, have prevented them from carrying for- 
ward their work to its full cempletion. - But whatever has 
been done, is chiefly to be ascribed to them, and to the 
denominations which they represent. 

Too much can not be said of the teachableness of the 
Indian, and of his aptitude to learn, when subjected to 
systematic discipline. If the same means, and the same 
influences which are employed to educate and elevate the 
mass of our own people, and without the constant appli- 
cation of which, they themselves would soon fall into ig- 
norance, were brought to bear upon our Indian popula- 
tion, they would rise under it with a rapidity which 
would excite both surprise and admiration. Instances are 
not wanting among the present Iroquois, of attainments 
in scholarship which would do credit to any student. 
To give employment to those Indian youth whose ac- 
quired capacities would enable them to fill stations of 
trust and profit among ourselves, is another species of 
encouragement which commends itself to the generous 
mind. Both in our civil and social relations with the red 
men, we regard them as a distinct and separate class ; 
when in each of these relations they should not only be 
regarded as our fellow-men, but as a part of our own peo- 
ple. Born upon the soil, the descendants of its ancient 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 263 

proprietors, there is no principle which should make them 
aliens in the land of their nativity, or exclude them from 
any of those advantages which are reserved to ourselves. 
So far as they are able to appreciate and enjoy the same 
privileges which pertain to the mass of the people, the 
claim for participation which their situation silently puts 
forth should not be disregarded. 

The lands of the Iroquois are still held in common, the 
title being vested in the people. Their progress toward 
a higher agricultural life has rendered this ancient tenure 
a source of inconvenience ; although they are not as yet 
prepared for their division among the people. Each indi- 
vidual can improve and inclose any portion of their com- 
mon domain, and sell or retain such improvements, in the 
same manner as vrith personal property ; but they have 
no power to transfer the title to the land to each other, or 
to strangers. As early as the reign of James the Second, 
the right of purchasing Indian lands was made a govern- 
ment right exclusively, by royal proclamation ; and it 
proved such a necessary shield against the rapacity of 
speculators, that this humane provision is still retained 
as a law in all the states of the Union, and by the national 
government. "When the Iroquois reach such a stable posi- 
tion, as agriculturists, as to make it safe to divide their 
lands among the several families of each nation, with the 
power of alienation, it will give to them that stimulus 



264 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

and ambition which separate rights of property are so well 
calculated to produce. The present system has at least 
the merit of saving all the people from poverty and va- 
grancy, if it does not enable a portion of them to become 
thrifty and substantial agriculturists. The first step 
towards the amelioration of their condition in this par- 
ticular, would be a division among themselves, with the 
power of alienation to each other, under such restrictions 
as would be adapted to the case. This would serve to 
prepare the way for other changes, until finally they could 
be restored, with safety to themselves, not only to the 
full possession of those rights of property which are 
common to ourselves, but also to the rights and privi- 
leges of citizens of the state. When this time arrives, 
they will cease to be Indians, except in name. 

The progressive elevation of our Indian population, 
here indicated, if carried to a successful result, would 
save but a portion of the Indian family; but that portion 
would become, in every respect, as useful and respect- 
able as any other portion of our people. They would 
neither be wanting in ability, or morality, or public spirit ; 
and perhaps it is not too much to conjecture, that specimens 
of the highest genius, and of the most conspicuous talent, 
hereafter destined to figure in the civil history of our 
republic, may spring from the ranks of the Indian citizens. 

On the other hand, if they are left, unencouraged and 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 265 

unassisted, to struggle against their adverse destiny ; or, 
more fatal still, if they are subjected to a false and unjust 
system of superintendence, the whole Indian family will 
ere long fade away, and finally become enshrouded in the 
same regretful sepulchre, in which the races of Xew 
England lie entombed. 

The present system of national supervision is evi- 
dently temporary in its plan and purposes, and designed 
for the administration of our Indian affairs with the least 
possible inconvenience, rather than for their ultimate 
reclamation, to be followed by the bestowment of citizen- 
ship. It carries, upon all its features, the impression 
that the presence of the Indian upon this continent is 
temporary ; and that he must inevitably surrender the 
remainder of his possessions, when he shall have become 
surrounded by the white man, and the summons be sent 
in for the customary capitulation. The sentiment which 
this system proclaims is not as emphatic as that embla- 
zoned upon the Roman policy toward the Carthaginians — 
Carthago est delenda, — " Carthage must be destroyed;" 
but it reads in not less significant characters — The des- 
tiny of the Indian is extermination. This sentiment, which 
is so wide-spread as to have become a general theme for 
schoolboy declamation, is not only founded upon errone- 
ous views, but it has been prejudicial to the Indian him- 
self. If, then, public opinion and the national policy are 
12 



266 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

both wrong upon these great questions, or if there are even 
strong grounds for suspecting them to be so, it becomes 
an act of justice, as well as of duty, to correct the one, and 
change the other. Our Indian relation's, from the founda- 
tion of the republic to the present moment, have been 
administered with reference to the ultimate advantage of 
the government itself; while the reclamation of the 
Indian has been a secondary object, if it ever entered into 
the calculation in the slightest degree. Millions of money, 
it is true, have been expended, and some show of justice 
preserved in their complicated affairs ; but in all promi- 
nent negotiations the profit has been on the side of the 
government, and the loss on that of the Indian. In addition 
to this, instances of sharp-sighted diplomacy, of ungenerous 
coercion, and of grievous injustice, are to be found in the 
journal of our Indian transactions — a perpetual stigma 
upon the escutcheon of our republic. If references are 
demanded to the paragraphs, the reader may turn to 
that upon the Seminoles, or to the Georgia Cherokee 
treaty, executed by the government, or to the more 
recent treaties with the Iroquois themselves, in which the 
government bartered away its integrity, to minister to 
the rapacious demands of the Ogden Land Company. 

Jefferson made the civilization of the Indian a subject 
of profound consideration, and a favorite element of the 
national policy during his administration. Washington 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 267 

at a still earlier period, regarded the future welfare of the 
Indian with deep solicitude. In founding the first system 
of intercourse and superintendence, he was guided by the 
most enlightened principles of justice and benevolence; 
and to such a degree were the Iroquois, in particular, im- 
pressed with the goodness and beneficence of his character, 
that they not only bestowed upon him, in common with 
other Indian nations, the appelation of Father, but to this 
day he is known among them as "The Great American. " 
The aggressive spirit of the people, however, in connection 
with the slight estimation in which Indian rights were held, 
has ever been found too powerful an element to be stayed. 
It has had free course during the last sixty years, until 
the whole territory east of the Mississippi, with incon- 
siderable exceptions, has been swept from the Indian. 
This fact renders any argument superfluous, to show, 
that within this period the reclamation and preservation 
of the red man has formed no part of the public policy. 
But within the same period the moral elements of 
society have been developed and strengthened to such a 
degree as to work a change in public sentiment. A 
kindlier feeling toward the Indian is everywhere appa- 
rent, joined with an unwillingness to allow him to be 
urged into further extremities. He has been sufficiently 

the victim of adverse fortune, to be entitled to a double 
17 



268 LIFE OF MARY JEMISON. 

portion of the interest and assistance of the philan- 
thropist; and a new day, it is to be hoped, has already 
dawned upon his prospects. 

It can not be forgotten, that in after years our republic 
must render an account to the civilized world, for the 
disposal which it makes of the Indian. It is not suffi- 
cient, before this tribunal, to plead inevitable destiny ; 
but it must be shown affirmatively, that no principles of 
justice were violated, no efforts were omitted, and no 
means were left untried, to rescue them from their peril- 
ous position. After &11 has been accomplished which the 
utmost efforts of philanthropy, and the fullest dictates of 
wisdom can suggest, there will still be sufficient to la- 
ment, in the unpropitious fate of the larger portion of 
the Indian family. It is the great office of the American 
people, first, to shield them against future aggression, 
and then to mature such a system of supervision and tu- 
telage as will ultimately raise them from the rudeness of 
Indian life, and prepare them for the enjoyment of those 
rights and privileges which are common to ourselves. 

To the Indian Department of the National government 
the wardship of the whole Indian family is, in a great 
measure, committed ; thus placing it in a position of high 
responsibility. If any discrimination could be made be- 
tween the several departments of the government, this 



DEH-HE-WA-MIS. 269 

should be guided by the most enlightened justice, the 
most considerate philanthropy. Great is the trust re- 
posed, for it involves the character of the white race, and 
the existence of the red. May it ever be quickened to 
duty by a vivid impression of its responsibilities, and 
never violate, for any consideration, the sacred trust com- 
mitted to its charge. 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



I. 

TRAGEDY OF THE DEVIL'S HOLE. 

BY EBENEZER MIX, ESQ. 

The author and compiler of the first edition of this 
work took much pains to procure a correct statement of 
this transaction, as its details had never before been pub- 
lished. He procured the statement of Jesse Ware, then 
a resident at Fort Schlosser — an aged man, who, after 
the occurrence, had been for a long time an intimate 
friend and boon companion of William Stedman, the 
principal, if not the only person of the English party, who 
escaped this horrible massacre with life. This statement 
appears to have awakened inquiry, by which some errors 
have been detected, and some new information obtained; 
therefore, we give a remodeled statement of the affair, 
from all the materials now in our possession. 

After forts Niagara and Schlosser were taken from the 
French by the British, in July, 1759, Sir William John- 



274 APPENDIX. 

son, the British commander, made a contract with Wil- 
liam Stedman to construct a portage road from Lewiston 
landing to Fort Schlosser, the distance of eight miles, to 
facilitate the transportation of provisions and military 
stores from one place to the other, and superintend the 
transportation of the same. 

On the 20th of June, 1763, Mr. Stedman, in conformity 
to his agreement, having finished the road, started, for the 
first time, with twenty- five loaded wagons, from Lewiston 
to Fort Schlosser. 

Sir William Johnson, being suspicious of the integrity 
of the Seneca Indians, although the French war was then 
ended, and amnesty between all parties, the Six Nations 
included, reciprocally declared, detached a party of fifty 
soldiers, with their officers, to escort Mr. Stedman's 
party. The Seneca Indians, who, from their late 
allies, the French, had imbibed an inveterate hatred 
against the English, watched the progress of the con- 
struction of the road, and were determined to nip in the 
bud the first attempt to use it ; as they considered it a 
trespass on their premises, and an infringement on their 
rights. By means of their friendly intercourse with the 
English, they easily ascertained the time the first attempt 
would be made to cross the portage with teams. They 
accordingly congregated their whole force at that time, 
and lay in ambush on the Niagara Eiver, about half-way 



APPENDIX. 275 

between Lewiston and Fort Schlosser. At this place the 
road approaches within a few feet of the edge of the pre- 
cipice, at an acute-angle in the eastern bank of the river, 
which descends from eighty to a hundred feet almost 
perpendicularly, into a hideous-looking dell, called the 
Devil's Hole. 

As soon as the British transportation party arrived at 
this place, the Indians sallied from their ambuscade, in- 
closed the whole body of the English, and either killed on 
the spot, or drove off the banks, every soldier, officer, 
teamster, and assistant, amounting to near one hundred 
men, together with their horses, carriages, loading, and 
every thing else pertaining to the expedition, except Mr. 
Stedman, the superintendent, who was on horseback. 

A robust and gigantic Indian seized Mr. Stedman's 
horse by the bridle reins, and was leading him east to the 
woods, through the scene of deadly strife, probably for 
the purpose of devoting him to the more excruciating tor- 
ments of a sacrifice ; but, while the captor's attention was 
drawn in another direction for a moment. Stedman, with 
his knife, cut the bridle reins near the bits, at the same 
time thrusting his spurs into the flanks of his well-trained 
charger, rode east into the forest — being the target of 
hundreds of Indian rifles, aimed at his person and flying 
steed, from which neither he nor his horse received the least 

injury. He continued his course east about two miles, 

L 



276 APPENDIX. 

where he struck Gill creek, which he followed down to its 
mouth, and then down the bank of the Niagara River to 
Fort Schlosser. 

From all the accounts of this barbarous transaction, 
Mr. Stedman was the only person belonging to his party 
'who was not either driven or thrown off into the Devil's 
Hole. Tradition has transmitted to us various accounts 
of the fate of some few others of the party ; that is, that 
one, two, or three others escaped with life, after being 
driven off the bank, although badly wounded and maimed 
by the fall. Most of the accounts agree in the escape of 
a little drummer, who was caught, while falling, in the 
limb of a tree, by his drumstrap, from which he extricated 
himself, and descended the body of the tree to the ground. 
The account of this escape is the most to be relied on, 
because* the most probable. Pieces of the wreck of this 
expedition are to be found < at the bottom of the Devil's 
Hole at the present day. 

As no attempt was made by the Indians, in this affair, 
except in the case of Stedman, to take prisoners, scalp 
the dead, or procure plunder, it appears that those minor 
objects were entirely merged in the more exalted pursuit, 
(according to their views,) of destruction, blood, and 
carnage. 

The escape of Mr. Stedman, not only from the iron 
grasp of one of their most athletic and powerful warriors, 



APPENDIX. 277 

but from the shower of rifle balls discharged at him from 
the rifles of their best and most unerring marksmen, con- 
founded the Indians with wonder and fear, furnishing a 
subject whereon to feed their most absurd, superstitious 
whims. They at once pronounced him a favorite of the 
Great Spirit ; and to appease its wrath, made Stedman a 
present of the tract of land he had encompassed in his 
retreat to Fort Schlosser ; to wit, beginning at the Devil's 
Hole ; thence running east, to Gill creek ; thence south- 
erly, down the creek, to the Niagara Eiver ; thence west, 
down the river, to Niagara Falls ; and thence northerly, 
still bounding on the river, to the place of beginning ; 
beirfg a tract about two miles wide, and three and a half 
miles long. But neither the British government, nor the 
United States, or either of the states, has ratified or con- 
firmed that gift ; although Jesse Ware, claiming under 
Stedman, has, for a number of years in succession, as- 
sailed our legislative halls for the land, or some remune- 
ration therefor. Nor does it appear that even the Indians 
themselves, after the excitement produced by the trans- 
action had subsided, recognized any validity in Stedman's 
title; for the next year, 1764, they ceded the same tract, 
together with other lands, extending north to Lake 
Ontario, to the king of Great Britain, for a carrying-place 
around the Falls of Niagara. 



278 APPENDIX. 



II. 

GENERAL SULLIVAN'S EXPEDITION TO 
WESTERN NEW YORK. 

During the years 1777 and 1778, the warriors of the 
Six Nations, the greater portion of the Oneidas excepted, 
bribed by British gold, clothing, ruin, and gewgaws, and 
impelled by their natural thirst for blood — entirely dis- 
regarding all former treaties and pledges — attacked and 
laid waste the north-western frontier settlements of New 
York and Pennsylvania. Their footsteps were indelibly 
marked with the tomahawk and the scalping-knife, with- 
out regard to age, sex, or condition ; and the destruction 
of all property on which the firebrand or rifle-ball could 
be made to take effect — as the valley of Wyoming, the 
fields of Cherry Valley, and the banks of the Mohawk, 
bore melancholy testimony. 

It became necessary for the safety, if not for the very 
existence of our border settlements, that these hired plun- 
derers, incendiaries, and assassins should receive a signal 
chastisement for their predatory and barbarous incursions ; 



APPENDIX. 279 

not only as an act of retributive justice, but to deprive 
them of the means of repeating these atrocities. To 
effect this grand desideratum, in the spring of 1779 mea- 
sures were taken to destroy their abodes and their means 
of subsistence — drive them from their retreats to more re- 
mote regions, and strike them with terror at the extermi- 
nating principles of the mode of warfare adopted ; this 
being decided to be the only means of subduing, or even 
crippling the strength of a faithless foe, whose treaties 
are made only to be broken, and who are seldom to be 
caught or found, except when, for motives of advantage, 
they choose to stay or to reveal themselves. 

As no connected account of this transaction, in detail, 
has ever been published, to our knowledge, we are under 
the necessity of culling from all the sources now access- 
ible, the most authentic materials to form a connected 
narrative. For these materials, we acknowledge our- 
selves indebted to Marshall's Life of "Washington, the 
British Annual Register, the Encyclopaedia Americana, 
the Researches of De Witt Clinton, Washington's Letters, 
the Statement of John Salmon, Esq., late of Groveland, 
Livingston county, N. T., who was orderly sergeant in 
the rifle company commanded by Capt. Michael Simpson 
and Lieut. Thomas Boyd, forming part of Sullivan's 
army; and last, although not least, the statements of oui 



280 APPENDIX. 

worthy friend Major Moses Van Campen, who bore a 
conspicuous part in the battle which took place on the 
Tioga, and now resides as a retired gentleman, in the 
valley of the Genesee. 

The original plan of this important campaign was, that 
the country of the Six Nations should be entered by 
three divisions of the army at the same time. The prin- 
cipal body, composed of generals Maxwell, Hand, and 
Poor's brigades, together with a train of artillery, the 
whole consisting of about three thousand men, to rendez- 
vous at Wyoming under the immediate command of 
Major General Sullivan ; from whence to march up the 
Susquehanna, and enter the heart of the territory of the 
Six Nations, occupied by the Senecas and Gayugas. The 
second division, composed of General Clinton's command 
of about fifteen hundred, who had wintered at Schoharie, 
were to ascend the valley of the Mohawk, pass through 
the territories of the Oneidas, as they had adhered 
to the treaty of neutrality, and attack and lay waste 
the settlements of the Tuscaroras and Onondagas; 
after which they were to join Gen. Sullivan in the Genesee 
country; and the third division, consisting of between 
five and six hundred men, under the command of Colonel 
Brodhead, to march from Pittsburgh up the Alleghany, 
and after laying waste the Seneca villages and settle- 



APPENDIX. 281 

ments on that river, likewise to join General Sullivan, if 
necessary. 

Before the troops destined for the grand expedition had 
been put in motion, owing to some unfortunate circum- 
stances, an enterprise of less extent was projected by Gene- 
ral Schuyler, and its execution carried into effect with 
complete success. On the nineteenth of April, Colonel 
Van Schaick, assisted by Lieutenant-Colonel Willet and 
Major Cochran, at the head of between five and six hun- 
dred men, marched from Fort Schuyler, (Utica,) and on 
the third day reached and surprised the Onondaga Indian 
settlements. In the first village which they attacked, 
they killed twelve Indians, and made thirty-four prisoners, 
including one white man; this giving the alarm, the 
Indians deserted the other villages, extending over a 
large territory, and fled to the woods. The party then, 
without molestation, burned all their buildings, provisions, 
and other combustible property in the several villages; 
killed their horses, cattle, and other stock, and utterly 
destroyed the whole settlement. With such precipi- 
tancy had the Indians fled from their villages, that they 
left about a hundred rifles and guns in their houses. The 
party having finished their work of destruction, returned 
to Fort Schuyler on the sixth day, without the loss of a 
man. 

The eastern division of the army, under the command 



282 APPENDIX. 

of General Clinton, marched to Schenectady in the month 
of May, and proceeded up the Mohawk in boats, over- 
awing and putting to flight the remnant of the Mohawks, 
who were still hanging around their native valley. But 
in consequence of the principal object of their being as- 
signed to that route, the destruction of the Onondaga settle- 
ments, having been accomplished by the enterprise of 
Colonel Van Schaick and his party, on their arrival at Can- 
ajoharie, General Clinton received orders from Major-Gene- 
ral Sullivan, under whose command he was, to march his 
division to Otsego Lake, provide boats, and make other 
preparations to descend the eastern branch of the Susque- 
hanna River, and meet him at Tioga Point when after- 
ward directed. Agreeable to orders, Gen. Clinton marched 
his division to Otsego Lake, provided two hundred and 
eight boats, and necessary provision, threw a dam across 
the outlet, thereby raising the water in the lake two feet or 
over, to enable him. when he pleased, to cause a freshet 
in the river, to float his boats down with the greater 
rapidity and safety. He then waited for further orders. 
The main army, which rendezvoused at Wyoming, 
under the command of General Sullivan, for the want of 
supplies, and by reason of other adverse circumstances, 
did not leave that place until the last of July, when it 
marched to Tioga Point, where, on the 22d of August, it 
was joined by the eastern division under General Clinton. 



APPENDIX. 283 

After the junction of the two divisions, General Sullivan 
assumed the command in chief, having, for his immediate 
subordinates, generals Clinton, Maxwell, Poor, and Hand, 
and Major Parr, of the rifle corps. 

General Sullivan then marched up the Tioga River in 
search of the enemy, who, he had ascertained, were in 
some force, at no great distance on that route. On the 
29th of August, at 11 o'clock, A.M., the enemy was dis- 
covered by the van-guard, about one mile below [Newton, 
(now Elmira.) The whole force that the enemy were 
able to collect, amounting, according to Sullivan's account, 
to fifteen hundred, of whom two hundred were white 
tories, known as Butler's Rangers, and the residue In- 
dians, commanded by Brandt, the two Butlers, Grey, Guy 
Johnson, and McDonald, were here assembled, covered 
by a lengthy breastwork, rudely constructed of logs and 
felled trees, masked with pine and shrub-oak bushes stuck 
in the ground. The right flank of this work was covered 
by the river, and on their left, and in front, were two 
sharp ridges, parallel to each other, covered with parties 
of Indians, ready to fall on the right flank and rear of 
Sullivan's army, when it had progressed a sufficient dis- 
tance within the ambuscade. But the whole was discov- 
ered in sufficient time to guard against any disastrous 
results. General Poor was ordered to take possession of 

the outer ridge, turn the enemy's left flank, and attack 
18 L* 



284 APPENDIX. 

him in the rear; while General Hand, aided by the artil- 
lery, attacked him in front. General Poor, assisted by 
General Clinton, pushed his column up the hill, the van- 
guard of which was led by Major Van Campen, driving 
the Indians at the point of the bayonet — during which 
time a sharp conflict along the whole line of the breast- 
work was supported well on both sides. But the enemy, 
observing that their left flank was entirely exposed, and 
that they were in danger of being surrounded, as General 
Poor was proceeding with great rapidity, the savages, red 
and white, abandoned their breastwork, and, crossing the 
river, fled with the utmost precipitation. 

This victory cost the Americans - about thirty men. 
The ascertained loss of the Indians was also inconsider- 
able ; but they were so intimidated, that they fled to, and 
deserted their villages, and abandoned the idea of farther 
resistance. 

From Newtown, the army marched north, between the 
lakes, to the Seneca River ; and detached parties were 
sent from their encampment in every direction, overrun- 
ning and laying waste the Indian settlements, cutting 
down their orchards, destroying their provisions and 
crops, killing their hogs, cattle, and horses — in short, 
applying the besom of destruction to everything that 
could afford shelter or sustenance to man or beast. If, 
indeed, the humane feelings of the Americans employed 



APPENDIX, 285 

in this work of destruction sometimes prompted them to 
relent their own destructiveness, the watchword — Wyo- 
ming, Cherry Valley, or the Mohawk— would add a fresh 
impulse to the arm, and force the respiration of a fanning 
breeze to the faggot. 

After finishing their labors in the east, the army pro- 
ceeded west, for the purpose of closing its unopposed 
career of destruction at the chief village of the Senecas, 
Little Beard's Town, lying on the Genesee Elver. They 
passed the foot of Canandaigua Lake, meting out a full 
measure of destruction and desolation on the village and 
settlement at that place, as well as on the village at the 
outlet of the Honeoye. On their arrival at the head of 
Conesus Lake, within eight or nine miles of Little Beard's 
Town, they encamped on the ground, now known as Hen- 
derson's Fiats. 

Early in the evening, a party of twenty-one men was 
detached, and sent out under the command of Lieutenant 
Boyd, accompanied by a faithful Oneida Indian as a 
guide, for the purpose of reconnoitering in the vicinity of 
Little Beard's Town. Their first point of destination was 
an Indian village on the East side of Genesee River, 
nearly opposite the capital of the Senecas, to which it 
was a kind of suburb. On the arrival of the party at the 
village, they found that it had been lately deserted, as 
the fires in the huts were still burning. Being much 



286 , APPENDIX. 

fatigued, and the night being far spent, they encamped 
for the residue of the night in a secluded place near the 
village, sending two of their number back to the main 
arm} 7 to report. In the morning the}" crept from their 
place of concealment, and discovered two Indians hover- 
ing about the settlement, one of whom was immediately 
shot and scalped by one of the riflemen, by the name of 
Murphy. Having thus exposed their presence in the 
place, Lieutenant Boyd, concluding that any further 
attempt to gain information would not only be useless, 
but rashly hazardous, ordered a retreat to the main army. 

This little band retraced their steps until they arrived 
within a mile and a half of the camp, when they were 
intercepted by a party of observation from the enemy's 
camp. They fought desperately and rashly, for there 
w r as no chance to retreat. The result was, that twelve 
were killed, including their faithful guide. Lieutenant 
Boyd and a private by the name of Parker were taken 
prisoners, and the remaining seven made their escape by 
flight through the enemy's ranks, among whom was the 
brave but incautious Murphy. The dead of this little 
heroic band were left on the ground by the Indians, 
and Lieutenant Boyd and Parker were immediately con- 
ducted to Little Beard's Town. 

"When Lieutenant Boyd began to realize his situation 
as a prisoner of the Indians, he solicited an interview 



APPENDIX. 287 

with Brandt, who, he knew, commanded his captors, and 
of whose character he had received some information. 
This chief immediately presented himself, when Lieuten- 
ant Boyd, by one of those appeals which are known only 
to those who have been initiated and duly instructed in 
certain mysteries, and which will never fail to bring 
succour to a "distressed brother," addressed him as the 
only source from which he could expect a respite from 
cruel punishment or a lingering and painful death. The 
appeal was recognized, and Brandt immediately, and in 
the strongest language, assured him that his life should 
be spared. Brandt, however, being called on to perform 
some particular service which required a few hours 
absence, left the prisoners in the charge of the British 
colonel, Butler, of the rangers. 

As soon as Brandt had left, Butler commenced his 
interrogatories, to obtain from the prisoners a statement 
of the number, situation, and intentions of the army under 
General Sullivan, and threatened, in case they hesitated 
or prevaricated in their answers, to deliver them up to 
be massacred by the Indians, who, in Brandt's absence, 
and with the encouragement of their more savage com- 
mander, Butler, were ready to commit the greatest cru- 
elties. Belying, probably, on the promises which Brandt 
had made them, and which undoubtedly he intended to 
fulfill, they refused to give Butler the desired information, 



288 APPENDIX. 

Butler, upon this, hastened to put his threat into exe- 
cution. They were delivered to some of their most fero- 
cious enemies, who, after having put them to the most 
severe torture, killed them by severing their heads from 
their bodies.* 

The main army, immediately after hearing of the dis- 
aster which befell Lieutenant Boyd's detachment, moved 
on toward Genesee River, and finding the bodies of those 
who fell in Boyd's heroic attempt to break through the 
enemy's ranks, buried them on the battle ground, which 
is now in the town of Groveland. Upon their arrival at 
the Genesee River, they crossed over and found Little 
Beard's Town and all the adjacent villages deserted. The 
bodies of Lieutenant Boyd and Parker were found and 
buried in one grave, near the bank of Little Beard's 
creek, under a clump of wild plum trees. Mr. Salmon was 
one who assisted in committing to the earth the remains 
of his friend and companion in arms, the gallant Boyd. 

The army, having scoured the country for many miles 
up and down the river, burning all the Indian villages, 
and destroying all their corn, hogs, cattle, and other 
means of subsistence, finally, to close their labors of 
destruction, applied the torch to the ancient metropolis 
of the Seneca nation, Little Beard's Town, which con- 
tained one hundred and twenty-eight houses. 

*See Mrs. Jemison's account, page 122. 



APPENDIX. 289 

While General Sullivan had been laying waste the 
Cayuga, and part of the Seneca settlement, the western 
division under Colonel Brodhead marched up the Alle- 
ghany River and French creek. Here too, the Indians 
were totally unable to resist the force with which they 
were invaded. After one unsuccessful skirmish, they 
abandoned their villages and property, and fled to the 
woods for personal safety. Colonel Brodhead, having 
visited the settlements on French creek, ascended the 
Alleghany to Clean Point, destroying all the Indian vil- 
lages on French creek and on the Alleghany River ; and, 
ascertaining that it was not necessary for him to join the 
main army, he returned with his division to Pittsburgh, 
leaving Cattaraugus, Buffalo Creek, and Tonawanda set- 
tlements exempt from this general destruction. 

General Sullivan, with the main army and the eastern 
division, having destroyed forty Indian villages, (including 
those destroyed by Colonel Van Schaick's party, and the 
western division under Colonel Brodhead.) one hundred 
and sixty thousand bushels of corn, vast quantities of 
beans and other vegetables, a great number of horses, 
hogs, cattle, farming utensils, etc., and everything that 
was the result of labor or produce of cultivation — being 
the sanguinary achievement of three weeks unmolested 
and unremitting employment of between four and five 
thousand men — countermarched to Newtown, having been 



290 . APPENDIX. 

absent five weeks ; thence past Tioga Point, Wyoming, 
and Easton, to New Jersey, where he went into winter 
quarters ; having lost but about forty men during the 
whole campaign, either by sickness or the fortunes of war. 



APPENDIX. 291 



III. 

REMOVAL OF THE REMAINS OF BOYD, 

BY EBENEZER MIX, ESQ. 

In the year 1841, some gentlemen in Rochester, and 
along the Genesee Valley, determined to pay a tribute of 
respect to the memory of Lieutenant Boyd and his com- 
panions, who fell or were sacrificed at Little Beard's 
Town and its vicinity, during General Sullivan's cam- 
paign, by removing their remains to Rochester, and rein- 
terring them, with appropriate solemnities, in the new 
cemetery at Mount Hope. 

The necessary preparations were made, by disinterring 
the remains, depositing them in the capacious urn, and 
raising a large mound of earth over the grave of Lieuten- 
ant Boyd, for a memorial. On the twentieth of August, 
1841, a large concourse of people assembled at the vil- 
lage of Cuyler, among whom were several Revolutionary 
patriots, and in particular Major Moses Van Campen, and 
two other fellow-soldiers who were with Boyd and his un- 
fortunate companions, in Sullivan's army, when the urn 



292 APPENDIX. 

containing the remains was removed from the top of the 
mound, under convoy of a military escort, composed of 
several independent companies, and a band of music from 
Rochester, to Colonel Cuyler's grove, near the village of 
Cuyler, where a pertinent and lucid, historical and bio- 
graphical discourse was pronounced by Treat, Esq., 

after which, the remains were escorted to Rochester, by 
the military, music, citizens, etc., in several canal-boats. 
The next day, the remains were removed from the city 
of Rochester to Mount Hope, escorted as before, and at- 
tended by His Excellency, Governor Seward, his military 
suite, and an immense concourse of citizens. After an 
appropriate address by His Excellency, and an appeal to 
the throne of Grace by the Rev. Mr. E. Tucker, the re- 
mains were reinterred by the military with the honors 
of war. 



APPENDIX. 293 



IV. 

THE GENESEE COUNTRY AS IT WAS AND IS. 

BY EBENEZER MIX, ESQ. 

It may not be uninteresting to the reader, to compare 
the state of the " Genesee country " as it was eighty-two 
years ago, when our narrative first introduced us into 
that region, with what it is now ; and view the contrast. 

Along the northern border of the district referred to, 
then too rude and desolate even for an Indian residence, 
the Erie Canal now winds its way, floating the products 
of the fertile regions of the west, to the great commercial 
emporium of the nation ; and returning to the western 
agriculturists, contributions from the manufacturing estab- 
lishments of every nation, and the productions of the soil 
of every clime. 

The Genesee Valley Canal, now being constructed, is 
in a forward and progressive state, being now navigable 
from Rochester to Mount Morris. This canal extends 
from the Erie canal at Rochester, up the west bank of 
Genesee River, and on the western margin of its flats, 
past Scottsville — near Fowlers ville and Geneseo — 



294 APPENDIX. 

through the village of Cuyler, and past Moscow, to 
Squawkie Hill and Mount Morris, haying passed through 
the ancient sites of Cannewagus, Bigtree, Little Beard's 
and Squawkie Hill villages. At Squawkie Hill it crosses 
Genesee River in a pond, where it diverges from the 
river and pursues its course through the village of Mount 
Morris, and up to the valley of the Canneskraugah creek, 
to the Shaker settlement, in the town of Groveland; 
from which place a branch canal extends along the val- 
ley of the Canneskraugah to Dansville — the main canal 
here taking the valley of Cushaqua creek, converging 
again toward the river, passing through the villages of 
Nunda Valley and Messenger's Hollow, reaches Genesee 
River again at Portageville, after having been carried 
through the " deep cut," necessary to disengage it from 
the valley of the Cushaqua ; and the Tunnel upward of 
sixty rods in length, through the ridge of rock, mentioned 
in Chapter V, page 87, as having, according to conjec- 
ture, once extended across the river, and filled its present 
channels above the upper falls. 

At Portageville the canal is taken across the river in 
an aqueduct ; it then traverses the western bank of the 
river, and the western margin of the flats, passing Mix- 
ville within half a mile of its center, from which is con- 
structing a navigable feeder into the canal ; from thence 
it continues along the western margin of Canneadea Flats, 



APPENDIX. 295 

to Black creek, which approaches the river from the 
south-west. The canal then passes up the valley of 
Black creek, to the summit level in the town of Cuba; 
thence across the summit level, about two miles through 
a marsh, to the waters of Oil creek ; thence down its 
valley, through the village of Cuba, to Hinsdale, at the 
junction of Oil and Ischua creeks, whence the stream 
assumes the name of Olean creek; thence down the 
Olean valley to the village of Olean, on the Alleghany 
river, which is about fourteen miles above the Indian 
village of Unawaumgwa or Tuneunguan, introduced to 
our readers in the fourth and fifth chapters. It is a fact, 
however unimportant it may appear, that this canal, from 
Olean to Little Beard's Town, follows, with no material 
deviation, the old Indian path, or trail, which Mary Jemi- 
son traveled nearly a century ago, when she first came to 
Genishau. 

Although the whole of the Genesee country is now 
checkered with groves, orchards, and fields ; studded with 
villages, country seats, farm-houses, barns, and granaries ; 
it will not be thought invidious to particularize the pres- 
ent situation of the localities especially referred to in the 
preceding pages. 

The ground on which stood the great metropolis of the 
Senecas — Little Beard's Town — is now converted into 
fruitful corn and wheat fields ; but adjoining is the village 



296 APPENDIX. 

of Ouyler, which has sprung up, as it were by magic, 
since the Genesee Valley Canal became navigable to 
Mount Morris. The village of Geneseo, with its court- 
house and other county buildings, churches, academies, 
and elegant private mansions, lies about three miles to 
the north-east, while Moscow, with its spacious public 
square, churches, academy, etc., lies two miles to the 
south-west. The sites of Bigtree and Cannewagus vil- 
lages are known but as fertile fields, yielding abundant har- 
vests ; while on the east side of the Genesee, near Canne- 
wagus, is the pleasant village of West Avon, and the 
Avon mineral springs, the medical properties of whose 
waters, and the romantic scenery displayed in its location 
and environs, render it, of late years, a desirable retreat 
for invalids and the infirm; and a fashionable resort for 
health and beauty. The old encamping ground at the 
"Big bend " is now occupied by the staid business village 
of Batavia, with its county buildings, five churches, female 
seminary, etc. 

The Tonawanda, Tuscarora, Cattaraugus, and Buffalo 
Creek villages are still occupied by the remnant of the 
Senecas ; but Tonawanda has its neighboring villages of 
Akron and Caryville — Tuscarora its Lewiston, Cattar- 
augus its Lagrange, and the Buffalo Creek villages are 
closely bordered by the city of Buffalo, with its immense 
commerce, and all the various component parts, with the 



APPENDIX. 297 

useful and ornamental appendages which constitutes a 
city. Geneva occcupies the ground on which General 
Sullivan captured a village containing one papoose ; and 
the site of the " Old Castle " is now flanked by Castleton. 
The Sabbatical and wealthy village of Canandaigua, with 
its elegant public and private edifices, stands in bold con- 
trast with the midnight pow-wows of Gah-nan-dah-gwa, 
with its cluster of wigwams. Dansville takes its station 
" among the Slippery Elms/' and improves, with com- 
mendable zeal, its manufacturing facilities. Although 
the site of Squawkie Hill village is used for agricultural 
purposes only ; in its vicinity, on the ground where stood 
one of Ebenezer or Indian Allen's harems, now stands 
the lively and pleasant village of Mount Morris. Above 
the Portage Falls is the village of Portage ville, with its 
great water-power, and numerous factories. Near the 
site of the Lower Canneadea Indian village is the village 
of Mixville, with its church and other public buildings — 
its unrivaled facilities for using its permanent water-pow- 
er and its present machinery propelled thereby. The 
Alleghany Eiver villages are still occupied by the Indians. 
Near the mouth of Allen's creek, between Mount Mor- 
ris and Rochester, where stood Indian Allen's other 
harem, stands the village of Scottsville, a flourishing 
business place; and at the northern succession of 
great falls on the Genesee, where Allen built the first 



298 APPENDIX. 

apology for a grist-mill in the west, now stands the city 
of Rochester, with all its superb public and private edi- 
fices, its commerce and manufactures, together with its 
hundred run of stones in its flouring-mills, manufacturing 
more flour annually than is produced at any other place 
on the globe. 

Some idea of the improvements in a social and relig- 
ious point of view which have taken place on this terri- 
tory within less than thirty years may be drawn from the 
following fact : 

In the year 1811, there was standing near the Caledo- 
nia Springs a wood-colored house, without porch, steeple, 
dome, or tower, to denote its use. This building was oc- 
cupied as a Scotch. Presbyterian meeting-house; and it 
was at that time the only building erected or exclusively 
used for Divine Worship in the State of New York, on 
or west of Genesee River, although the territory then 
contained at least twenty-five thousand inhabitants. 

During the three following years, this territory was 
the scene of a border warfare, in which no age or sex 
was exempt from slaughter, and no edifice too sacred for 
the application of the torch. The observance of the Sab- 
bath was merged in the tumults of the camp ; and the 
din of battle, with its martial music, usurped the place 
of the deep-toned organ and the harmonious choir ; while 
the full voice of the commanding chief silenced the per- 



APPENDIX. 9 gg 

suasive eloquence of the apostolic minister — the messen- 
ger of peace. 

This territory now contains two large cities, and is 
thickly interspersed with thriving villages; — the cities 
contain numerous houses for public worship ; each village 
is provided with from one to five ; and in the back 
farming towns, where there is no compact settlement de- 
serving the name of a village, the eye of the traveler will 
scarcely lose sight of one or more of those spires, cupo- 
las, or towers, pointing toward the skies, emphatically 
proclaiming to his mental ear, as from the surrounding 
habitations, "We, too, worship God." 

M 



300 APPENDIX. 



V. 

INDIAN GEOGRAPHICAL NAMES,* 

IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK. 



NUN-DA'-WA-Q-NO'-GA. 

OR THE TERRITORY OF THE SENECAS. 

SENECA DIALECT. 

CHAUTAUQUE COUNTY. 

ENGLISH NAME. INDIAN NAME. SIGNIFICATION. 

Dunkirk, Ga-na'-da-wa-o, Running through the Hem- 

locks. 
Cattaraugus Creek, I G^'-ges-ga-o, 1 Fetid Bankg# 

( Ga-hun'-da,f ) 

Silver Creek, Ga-a-nun-da'-ta, G. A mountain leveled down. 

Chautauque Creek, Ga'-no-wun-go, G. In the Rapids. 
Conewango River, Ga'-no-wun-go, G In the Rapids. [locks. 

Canadawa Creek, Ga-na'-da-wa-o, G. Running through the Hem- 
Cassadaga Creek, Gus-da'-go, G. Under the Rocks. 

Cassadaga Lake, Gus-da'-go. Te-car- 

ne-o-di',f Under the Rocks. 

Chautauque Lake, Cha-da-queh, T. Place where one was lost. 

Cattaraugus, Ga'-da-ges'-ga-o, Fetid Banks. 

CATTARAUGUS COUNTY. 

Alleghany River O-hee'-yo, G. The Beautiful River. 

Great Valley Creek, O-dii'-squa-dos-sa, G. Around the Stone. [one. 
Little Valley Creek, O-da'-squa-wa-teh' G. Small Stone beside a large 

* From The League of the Iroquois, p. 465. 

f Gd-hun'-da and Te-car-na-o-di' are common nouns, signifying, the former 
" a river," or "creek," and the latter, "a lake." They are always affixed by the 
Iroquois, in speaking, to the name itself. 



APPENDIX. 



301 



ENGLISH NAME. 

Oil Creek, 
Ischuria Creek, 
Oswaya Creek, 
Burton Creek, 
Lime Lake, 
Efficottvflle, 
Burton, 
Olean, 

Hasket Creek, 
Alleghany Tillage, 

Oil Spring Village, 
Bend Village, 
Trail of the Eries, 



INDIAN NA3TB. 

Te-ear'-nohs, G. 
He'-soh, G. 
O-so'-a-yeh, G. 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Dropping Oil. 
Floating Nettles. 
Pine Forest. 



Je'-ga-sa-nek, G. [T. Name of an Indian. 



Te-car'-no-wun-do, 
De-as'-hen-da-qua, 

Je'-ga-sa-nek, 
He'-soh, 

O-so'-a-went-ha, G. 
Pe-o na-ga-no, 

Jo'-ne-a-dih, 
Te-ear'-nohs, 
Da'»-u-de-hok-to, 



Lime Lake. 

Place for holding Courts. 

Xame of an Indian. 

Same as Ischuna Creek. 

By the Pines. 

Cold Spring. 

Beyond the Great Bend 

Dropping Oil. 

At the Bend. 



Ga-qua' -ga-o-no, Wa-a' -gwen-ne-yuh. 



ERIE COUXTT. 



Two Sisters Creek, 
Caugwaga " 
Smokes " 

Cazenovia " 
Buffalo " 

Cayuga " 

Ellicott " 

Grand Island, 
Eighteen Mile Creek, 
Murder Creek, 
Lake Erie, 
Buffalo, 
Black Rock, 
Williamsville, 
Clarence Hollow, 
Akron, 

Lancaster. 
Red Jacket Village, 
Falls Village, 
Cattaraugus Village, 
Carrying Place Vil. 



Te-car'-na-ga-ge, G. 
Ga'-gwa-ga, G. [to, G. 
Da-de-o'-da-na-suk - 
Ga-a'-nun-deh-ta, G. 
Do'-sho-weh, G. 
Ga-da'-geh, G. 
Ga-da'-ya-deh, G. 
Ga-weh'-no-geh, 
Ta-nun'-no-ga-o, G. 
De'-on-gote, G. 
Do'-sho-weh, T. 
Do'-sho-weh, 
De-o'-steh-ga-a, 
Ga-sko -sa-da-ne-o, 
Ta-nun'-no-ga-o, 
De'-on-gote, 

Ga-squen'-da-geh, 
Te-kise-da-ne-yout, 
Ga-sko -sii- da, 
Ga-da'-ges-ga-o, 
Gwa'-u-gweh, 



Black "Waters. 

Creek of the Cat Xation. 

Bend in the Shore. 

A Mountain flattened down. 

Splitting the Fork. 

Through the Oak Openings. 

Level Heavens. 

On the Island. 

Full of Hickory Bark. 

Plac-e of Hearing. 

Same as Buffalo Creek. 

do. 
A Rocky Shore. 
Many Falls. 
Full of Hickory Bark. 
Place of Heaiing, (Xeuter 

gender.) 
Place of the Lizard. 
Place of the Bell. 
The Falls. 

Same as Cattaraugus Creek. 
Place of taking our Boats, 

or Portage. 



302 



APPENDIX. 



GENESEE AND WYOMING COUNTIES. 



ENGLISn NAME. 

Tonawanda Creek, 
Aliens " 

Black 

Stafford, 

Batavia, 

Oakfield, 

Alabama, 

Caryville, 

Pine Hill, 

Attica, 

Alexander, 

Wyoming, 

Pembroke, 

Le Roy, 

Darien, 

Silver Lake, 

Silver Lake Outlets, 

Caneadea Creek, 

Warsaw, 

Tonawanda Tillage, 

Gardow, 



Genesee River, 
Wiskoy Creek, 
Black Creek, 
Angelica, 
Caneadea, 

Caneadea Creek, 



INDIAN NAME. 

TiL'-na-wun-da, G. 
O'-at-kii, G. 
Ja'-go-o-geh, G. 

Ya'-go-o-geh, 
Deo-on'-go-wa, 
Te-car'-da-na-duk, 
Ga'-swii-dak, 
Gau'-diik, 
Te-ca'-so-a-a, 
Gweh'-ta-a-ne-te- 
car'-nun-do-deh, 
Da-o'-sa-no-geh, 
Te-car'-ese-ta-ne-ont, 
O-a'-geh, [da'-ne-o, 
Te-car'-no-wun-na- 
O-so'-ont-geh, 
Ga-na'-yiit, T. 
Ga-na'-yiit, G. 
Gii-o'-ya-de-o, G. 
Chi' -nose-heh-geh, 
Tii'-na-wun-da, 
Gii-da'-o, 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Swift Water. 
The Opening. 
Place of Hearing. (This i3 

Feminine.) 
Place of Hearing. 
The Great Hearing Place. 
Place of many Trenches. 
By the Cedar Swamp. 
By the Plains. 
Pine lying up. 

The Red Village. 
Place without a Name. 
Place with a Sign-post. 
On the Road. 
Many Rapids. 
Place of Turkeys. 
Signification lost. 

a a 

Same as Caneadea. 

On the Side of the Valley. 

Swift Water. 

Bank in Front. 



ALLEGHANY COUNTY. 

Gen-nis'-he-yo, G. The Beautiful Valley. 
O-wa-is'-ki, G. Under the Banks. 

Ja-go'-yo-geh, G. Hearing Place. 
Gii-ne-o'-weh-ga-yat, Head of the Stream. 
Gii-o'-ya-de-o, Where the Heavens lean 

against the Earth. 
Gii-o'-ya-de-o, G. Where the Heavens rest 



Nun da, 
Wiskoy, 
O-wa-is-ki, 
Caneadea, 



Nun-da' -o, 
O-wa-is'-ki, 
O-wa-is'-ki, 
Gii-o'-ya-de-o, 



Hilly. 

Under the Banks. 
Under the Banks. 
Where the Heavens lean 
against the Earth. 



APPENDIX. 



303 



LIVINGSTON COUNTY. 



tXGLISn NAME. 

Caneseraga Creek, 
Connesus Lake, 
Connesus Outlet, 
Hemlock Lake, 
Hemlock Outlet, 
Geneseo, 
Mount Morris, 

Dansville, 

Livonia, 

Lima, 

Avon, 

Caledonia, 

Moscow, 

"Squawkie Hill, 

Site of Moscow, 
Little Beard's Town, 
Big Tree Tillage, 
Tuscarora Village, 
Ganowauges, 
Site of Dansville, 
Near Livonia, 
Site of Mount Morris, 



INDIAN NAME, 

Ga-nus'-ga-go, G. 
Ga-ne-a'-sos, T. 
Ga-ne-a'-sos, G. 
O-neh'-da, T. 
O-neh'-da, G. 
O-ha'-di, 
So-no'-jo-wau-ga, 

Ga-nus'-ga-go, 

De-o'-de-sote, 

Ska-hase'-ga-o, 

Ga-no'-wau-ges, 

De-o'-na-ga-no, 

Ga-neh'-dii-on-tweh 

Da-yo'-it-ga-o, 

Ga-neh'-da-on-tweh, 

D e - o -nun ' - da-ga-a, 

Ga-un|do'-wa-na, 

O-ha'-gi, 

Ga-no'-wau-ges, 

Ga-nus'-ga-go, 

De-o'-de-sote, 

So-no'-jo-wau-ga, 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Among the Milkweed. 
Place of Nanny-berries. 

u u 

The Hemlock. 

a a 

Trees Burned. 

Big Kettle. (Residence of a 

Seneca Chief.) 
Among the Milk weed. 
The Spring. 
Once a long Creek. 
Fetid Waters. 
Cold Water. [ed. 

, Where Hemlock was spill- 
Where the River issues 

from the Hills. 
Where Hemlock was spilled. 
Where the Hill is near. 
A Big Tree. 
Crowding the Bank. 
Fetid Waters. 
Among the Milkweed, 
The Spring. 
Big Kettle, 



MONROE COUNTY, 



Irondequoit Bay, Neo'-da-on-da-quat, 



Salmon Creek, 
Sandy Creek, 
Honeoye Creek, 
Rochester, 
Brockport, 

Scottsville, 



Ga'-doke-na, G. 
O-neh'-chi-geh, G. 
Ha'-ne-a-yeh, G. 
Ga'-sko-sa-go, 
G weh ' -ta-a-ne -te^car- 

nun-do '^teh, 
O'-at-ka, 



Honeoye Falls, Sko'-sa-is-to, [ne-yu, 

Ontario Trail, [Bend, Ne-a'-ga Wa-a-gwen 
Indian Village at the Da-yo'-de-hok-to, 



A Bay, 

Place of Minnows. 
Long ago. 
Finger Lying. 
At the Falls. 

Red Village. 

The Opening. (Same as Al» 
len's Creek.) [struction. 
Falls rebounding from an ob= 
Ontario Foot Path. 
A Bended Creek. 



304 



APPENDIX. 



ORLEANS AND NIAGARA COUNTIES. 



ENGLISH NAME. 

Oak Orchard Creek, . 
Johnson's Creek, 
Eighteen Mile Creek, 

Tuscarora Creek, 
u East Branch, 
" West Branch, 

Albion, 

Medina, 

Middleport, 
Lockport, 

Royalton Center, 
Lewiston, 
Youngstown, 
Golden Creek, 
Niagara River, . 
Lake Ontario, 
The word Ontario, 



Niagara Falls, 
Niagara Village, 
Tuscarora Indian Yil 
Seneca Indian Yil. 



INDIAN NAME. SIGNIFICATION. 

Da-ge-a'-no-ga-unt, G. T wo Sticks coming together. 
A-jo'-yok-ta, G. Fishing Creek. 

Date-ge-a'-de-ha-na- 

geh, G. Two Creeks near together. 



Te-car'-na-ga-ge, G. 
De-} 7 o'-wuh-yeh, G. 
De-o'-wun-dake-no, 
Date-geh'-ho-seh, 

Te-ka'-on-do-duk, 
De-o'-do-sote, 

O-ge-a'-wa-te-ka'-e, 
Ga'-a-no-geh, 
Ne-ah'-ga, [on-da, G. 
Hate-keh'-neet-ga- 
Ne-ah'-ga, G. 
Ne-ah'-ga, T. 
Ska-no '-da-ri-o, T. 



Date-car ' -sko-sase, 
Date-car ' -sko-sase, 
Ga'-a-no-geh, 
Ga-u'-gweh, 



Black Creek. 

Among the Reeds, [burned. 

Place where Boats were 

One Stream crossing anoth- 
er. (Aqueduct on Canal.) 

Place with a Sign-Post. 

The Spring. (Referring to 
the Cold Springs) 

Place of the Butternut. 

On the Mountains. [Neck. 

Supposed from O-ne'-ah. A 

Signification lost. 

Same as Youngstown. 

cc u 

*The "Beautiful Lake." 
(This is a Mohawk word, 
and Ontario is a deriv- 
ative.) 

The Highest Falls. 

a n u 

On the Mountains. 

Taking Canoe out. (Carry- 
ing Place at the mouth of 
Tonawanda Creek.) 



WAYNE AND 

Mud Creek, 
Flint Creek, 
Canandaigua, 
Canandaigua Outlet, 
Canandaigua Lake, 
Hemlock Outlet, 
Honeoye Lake, 



ONTARIO COUNTIES. 

Ga-na-gweh, G. Same as Palmyra. 

Ah-ta'-gweh-da-ga, G. [tlement. 

Ga'-nun-da-gwa, A Place selected for a Set- 
Ga'-nun-da-gwa, G. " " " 

Ga'-nun-da-gwa, T. " " " 

O-neh'-da, G. Hemlock. 

Ha'-ne-a-yeh, T. Finger Lying. 



APPENDIX. 



305 



ENGLISH NAME. 

Skaneatice Lake, 
Sodus Bay, 



INDIAN NAME. 

Ska'-ne-a-dice, T. 
Se-odose', (Seneca,) 



Little Sodus Bay, Date-ke-a'-o-shote, 



Palmyra, 

Geneva, 

Seneca Lake, 

West Blooinfield, 

Victor, 

Naples, 

In ear Geneva, 

Canandaigua, 

Victor, 

Is ear Naples, 



Ga'-na-gweh, 



Ga-nun'-da-sa-ga, 



Ga-nun'-da-ok, 

Ga-o'-sa-ga-o, 

Nun'-da-wa-o, 

Ga-nun'-da-sa-ga, 

Ga'-nun-da-gwa, 

Ga-o'-sa-ga-o, 

Nun'-da-wa-o, 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Long Lake. 

Ah-slo-dose, (Oneida.) Sig- 
nification lost. 

Two Baby Frames. (From 
Ga-ose'-ha, Baby Frame.) 

A Village suddenly sprung 
up. 

New Settlement Village. 

u << a 

Village on the top of a Hill. 
In the Basswood Country. 
Great Hill. 

New Settlement Village. 
Place suddenly sprung up. 
In the Basswood Country. 
Great Hill. 



YATES, STEUBEN, AND CHEMUNG COUNTIES. 

Crooked Lake, O-go'-ya-ga, T. Promontory projecting into 

the Lake. 
" " Outlet, O-go'-ya-ga, G. " " " 

Conhocton River, Ga-ha'-to, G. A Log in the Water. 

Chemung River, Ga-ha'-to, G. " " " 

Canisteo River, Te-car'-nase-te-o, G. Board on the Water. 

Bath, Do-na'-ta-gwen-da, Opening in an Opening. 

Painted Post, Te-car'-nase-to-o-ah, A Board Sign. 

Elmira, Skwe'-do-wa, Great Plain. 



GWE-U'-GWEH-O-NO'-GA, 

OR THE TERRITORY OF THE CAYUGAS. 

PARTLY CAYUGA AND PARTLY SENECA. 



Tioga Point, 
Ithaca, 

Cayuga Lake, 
Aurora, 
Canoga, 
Cayuga Bridge, 



Ta-yo'-ga, 
Ne-o-dak'-he-at, 
Gwe-u'-gweh, T. 
De-a- wen' -dote, 
Ga-no'-geh, 
Was'-gwas, 



At the Forks. 

At the Head of the Lake. 

Lake at the Mucky Land. 

Constant Dawn. 

Oil Floating on the Water. 

A Long Bridge. 



306 



APPENDIX. 



ENGLISH XA3IE. 

Montezuma, 
Rowland's Island, 
Waterloo, 
Senega River, 

Clyde River, 

Auburn, 
Otter Lake, 
Muskrat Creek, 
Owasco Outlet, 
Owasco Lake, 
North Sterling Creek, 
Sodus Bay Creek, 
Site of Canoga, 
Site of Union Springs, 
Above Lockwoods 

Cove, 
Site of Ithaca, 



INDIAN NASIE. 

Te-car'-jik-ha'-do, 
Ga-weh'«no-wa-na, 
Skoi'-yase, 
Swa'-geh, G. 

Ga-na'-gweh, G. 

Was' -co, 
Squa-yen'-na, T. 
Squa-yen'-na, G. 
De-a-go'-ga-ya, G. 
Dwas'-co, T. 
, Dats-ka'-he, G. [G. 
Te-ga-hone'-sa-o'-ta, 
Ga-no'-geh, 



Ga-ya' -ga-an f -ha, 
Ne-o' -dak-he' -at, 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Place of Salt. 

Great Island. 

Place of Whortleberries. 

Flowing Out. (Some doubt 

about the Signification.) 
River at a Village suddenly 

sprung up. 
Floating Bridge. 
A great way up. 

" " [ed. 

Place where Men were kill- 
Lake at the Floating Bridge. 
Hard Talking. 
A Child in a Baby Frame. 
Oil on the Water. 
Promontory running out. 

Inclined downward. 

At the End of the Lake. 



O-NUN'-DA-GA-O-W-GA, 

OR THE TERRITORY OF THE ONONDAGAS. 

ONONDAGA DIALECT. 



Susquehanna River, Ga-wa-no-wa'-na- 

neh, G. Great Island River. 

Owego, Ah-wa'-ga, Where the Valley widens. 

Owego Creek, Ah-wa'-ga, G. " " " 

Cortland, O-nan'-no-gi-is'-ka, Shagbark Hickory. 

Homer, Te-wis'-ta-no-ont-sa'- 

ne-a-ha, Place of the Silver Smith. 

Owasco Inlet, Ka'-na-ka'-ge, G. Black Water. 



Tionghinoga River, O-nan'-no-gi-is'-ka, G. Shagbark Hickory. 

ONONDAGA COUNTY. 

Tully Lake, Te-ka'-ne-a-da'-he, T. A Lake on a Hill. 

Tully, Te-ka'-ne-a-da'-he, " " 

Apulia, O-nun'-o-gese, Long Hickory. 



APPENDIX. 



307 



ENGLISH WAITS. 

Bkaneateles Lake, 

Skaneal 

Otisco Lake, 



Otiseo, 

Otisco Outlet, 
Lafayette, 

Pompey Hill, 
Pompey, 
Oil Creek, 
Onondaga Creek, 
Onondaga West III 

Onondaga Hollow, 

jiarcellus, 

.Nine Mile Creek, 

Camillus, 

Elbridge, 

Jordan Creek, 

Jordan, 

Cross Lake, 

Fort Brewerton, 

Or.eida Outlet, 
Liverpool, 
Liverpool Creek, 
Onondaga Lake, 
Salina, 
Syracuse, 

Jamesviile Creek, 
Jarnesville, 
Limestone Creek, 
Manlius, 
Fayetteville, 
Deep Spring, 
South Onondaga, 
Christian Hollow, 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Long Lake. 

. to the Surface, and 
again sinking. Legend 
of a drowning man. 
do.^ 
do. 
Tinned Dome. 
Wind Mill. 
Place of ilany Ribs. 
Oily Water. 
On the Hills. 

A Hammer Hanging, [lev. 
-ha-hen'-wha, Turnpike Crossing the Val- 



IKDIAN JSAMB. 

Skan-e-a - 

Skan-e-a : -dice, 
Ga-ah -na, T. 



Ga-ah '-na, 
Ga-ah '-na, Gr. 
Te-ka'-wis-to'-ta, 

De-o'-wy-un'-do, 
De-is' -wa-ga' -ha, 

De-o'-nake-ha'-e, 
O-nun-da'-ga, G. 
Te-ga-che'-qua-ne- 
on'-ta, 



Us-te'-ka, 
Us-te'-ka, G. 

O-ya'-han, 
Ka-no-wa'-ya^ 
Ha-nan -to, G. 
Ha-nan'-to, 
U-neen'-do, T. 
Ga-do'-quat, 



Butternut Hickorv. 



Apples Split Open. 

Skull lying on a Shelf, [ter, 



Small Hemlock limbs on Wa 

" [ter, 

Hemlock Tops lying on Wa 

(Oneida Dialect.) Significa' 

tion lost. 
Signification lost. 
A Great Swamp. 
Tun-da-da -qua, G. Thrown Out. 
Ga-nun-ta'-ah, T. 31 ate rial for Council Fire. 
Place of Salt. 
Pine Tree broken, with Top 

hanging down. 
Bark in the Water. 

" k * " [rises. 

Where the Creek suddenly 

do. 
Lobster. 

Deep Basin Spring. 
A Hollow. 



She-u'-ka, G. 
Ga-na-wa'-va 



Te-ga-jik-ha'-do. 
Xa-ta'-dunk, 



Ga-sun'-to^G. 

Ga-sun'-to, 

De-a-o' -no-he, G. 

De-a-o'-no-he, 

Ga-che'-a-yo, 

De-o'-sa-da-ya'-ah, 

Swe-no'-ga. 

De-o -nake-hus'-sink, Xever Clean 

M* 



308 



APPENDIX. 



ENGLISH NAME. INDIAN NAME. SIGNIFICATION. 

Onondaga Castle, Ka-na-ta-go'-wa, Signification lost. 
Four Miles East of 

Castle, Tu-e-a-das'-so, Hemlock Knot in the Water. 

Site of Onondaga 

Hollow, Gis-twe-ah'-na, A Little Man. 

Three Miles South of 

Onondaga Castle, Nan-ta-sa'-sis, Going partly round a Hill. 



OSWEGO AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES. 



Oswego, 

New Haven Creek, 
Little Salmon Creek, 
Grindstone Creek, 
Big Salmon Creek, 
Pulaski, 
Sandy Creek, 
Grand Island, 

Sackets Harbor, 



Swa'-geh, Flowing out. 

Ka-dis-ko'-na, G. Long Marsh. 
Ga-nun-ta-sko'-na, G. Large Bark. 
He-ah-ha/-wke, G, Apples in Crotch of Tree. 
Ga-hen-wa'-ga, G. A Creek. 
Ga-hen-wa'-ga, " 

Te-ka'-da-o-ga'-he, G. Sloping Banks. 
De-a'-wone-da-ga- 

han'-da, Signification lost. 

Ga-hu'-a-go-je-twa- Fort at the Mouth of Great 

da-a'-lote, River. 



O-NA'-YOTE-KA-O-XO'-GA, 



OR ONEIDA TERRITORY 



St. Lawrence River, 
Black Lake, 
Oswegatchie River, 
Ogdensburgh, 
Black River, 
Watertown, 
Beaver River, 
Deer Creek, 
Moose River, 

Otter Creek, 
Indian River, 



ONEIDA DIALECT. 

Ga-na-wa'-ga, G. 
Che'-gwa-ga, T. 
O'-swa-gatch, G. 
O'-swa-gatch, 
Ka-hu-ah'-go, G. 
Ka-hu-ah'-go, 
Ne-ha-sa'-ne, G. 
Ga-ne'-ga-to'-do, G. 
Te-ka'-hun-di-an'- 

do, G. 
Da-ween-net, G. 
O-je' -quack, G. 



The Rapid River. 
In the Hip. 
Signification lost. 

u u 

Great or Wide River. 

11 " [ber. 

Crossing on a Stick of Tim- 
Corn Pounder. 

Clearing an Opening. 
The Otter. 
Nut River. 



APPENDIX. 



309 



ONEIDA COUNTY. 



ENGLISH NAME. 


INDIAN NAME. 


SIGNIFICATION. 


Mohawk River above Da-ya'-hoo-wa'-quat 


» 


Herkimer, 


G. 


Carrying Place. 


Rome, 


u 


" 


Fish Creek, 


Ta-ga'-soke, G. 


Forked like a Spear. 


Wood Creek, 


Ka-ne-go'-dick, G. 


Signification lost. 


Oneida Lake, 


Ga-no'-a-lo'-hale, T, 


, A Head on a Pole. 


Scribas Creek, 


Ga-sote'-na, G. 


High Grass. 


Bay Creek, 


Te-gua'-no-ta-go'- 






wa, G. 


Big Morass. 


West Canada Creek 


> 




and Mohawk River, Te-ah-5'ge, G. 


At the Forks. 


Trenton Tillage, 


Ose'-te-a'-daque, 


In the Bone. 


Trenton Falls, 


Date-wa'-sunt-ha'-go 


, Great Falls. 


Utica, 


Nun-da-da' -sis, 


Around the Hill. 


Whitestown Creek, 


Che-ga-quat'-ka, G. 


Kidneys. 


Whitestown, 


u 


u 


Oriskany Creek, 


Ole'-hisk, G. 


Nettles. 


Oriskany, 


u 


u 


Paris Hill, 


Ga-nun-do'-glee, 


Hills shrunk together. 


Clinton, 


Ka-da'-wis'-dag, 


White Field. 


Sangerfield, 


Ska '-na- wis, 


A long Swamp. 


Vernon, 


Ska '-na' -sunk, 


Place of the Fox. 


Yernon Center, 


Skun-an-do'-wa, 


Great Hemlock. 


Oneida Creek, 


Ga-no-a-lo'-hale, G. 


Head on a Pole. 


Verona, 


Te-o-na'-tale, 


Pine Forest. 


Nine Mile Creek, 


Te-ya-nun'-soke, G. 


A Beech Tree standing up. 


Camden, 


He-sta-yun'-twa, 


Meaning Lost. 


Oneida Depot, 


De-6se-la-ta'-gaat, 


Where the Cars go fast. 


New Hartford, 


Che-ga-quat'-ka, 


Kidneys. 


Oneida Castle, 


Ga-no-a-lo'-hale, 


Head on a Pole. 


Site of Camden, 


Ho-sta-yun'-twa, 


Meaning lost. 


On Fish Creek, 


Ta-ga'-soke, G. 


Forked like a Spear. 


Near Oneida Castle, 


Ga-na'-doque, 


Empty Village. 


MADISON AND CHENANGO COUNTIES. 


Canestota, 


Ka-ne-to'-ta, 


Pine Tree standing alone. 


Lenox, 


Ska-wais'-la, 


A Point made by Bushes. 



310 



APPENDIX. 



ENGLISH NAME. 

Caneseraga Creek, 

Chittenango Creek, 
Chittenango, 
Cazenovia Lake, 
Cazenovia, 
Hamilton, 

Unadilla River, 

Chenango River, 

Sherburn, 

Norwich, 

Oxford, 

Binghampton, [Yil, 

Stockbrid^e Indian 



INDIAN NAME. SIGNIFICATION. 

Ka-na'-so-wa'-ga, G. Several Strings of Beads 

with a String lying across. 
Where the San shines out. 



Ah-wa'-gee, T. 
Ah-wa'-gee, 
Da-ude' -no-sa-gwa- 

nose, 
De-u-na'-dil-lo, G. 
O-che-chang, G. 
Ga-na'-da-dele, 
Ga-na'-so-wa'-di, 



Perch Lake. 



Round House. 
Place of Meeting." 
Bull Thistles. 
Steep Hill. 
Signification lost. 



So-de-ah'-lo-wa'-nake, Thick-necked Giant. 
O-che-nang', Bull Thistles. 

Ak-gote'-sa-ga-nage, Meaning lost. 



GA-NE-A'-GA-O-XO'-GA, 

OR MOHAWK TERRITORY. 

MOHAWK DIALECT. 



West Canada Creek, Te-uge'-ga, G. 



Mohawk River, 

Herkimer, 

Little Falls, 

Port Plain, 

Canajoharie Creek, 

Canajoharie, 

Johnstown, 

Fonda, 

Fort Hunter, 

Schoharie Creek, 

Schoharie, 

East Canada Creek, 

Otsquago Creek, 

Amsterdam Creek, 

Garoge Creek, 



At the Forks. 



Small Bushes. 

Fort on a Hill. 

Washing the Basin, 
u 

Indian Superintendent. 
On the Rapids. [er 

Two Streams coming togeth 
Flood-wood. 



G. 

Ta-la-que'-ga, 
Twa-da-a-la-ha'-la, 
Ga-na-jo-hi'-e, G. 

u 

Ko-la-ne'-ka, 
Ga-na-wa'-da, 
Te-on-da-lo'-ga, 
Sko-har'-le, G. 

[G. 
Te-car'-hu-har-lo'-da, Visible over the Creek. 
O-squa'-go, G. Under the Bridge. 

Ju-ta-la'-ga, G. Signification lost. 

Ga-ro'-ga, G. " 



APPENDIX. 



311 



ENGLISH NAME. 

Schenectady, j 
Albany, 
Hudson River, 
Cohoes Falls, 
Lake Champlain, 

Ticonderoga, 

Saratoga, 

Lake St. Francis, 

Salmon Elver, 

St. Regis River, 
St. Regis, 
Racket River, 



INDIAN NAME. 

O-no-a-la-gone, na, 

Ska'-neh-ta'-de, 
Ska'-neh-ta'-de, G. 
Ga'-ha-oose, 
O-ne-a-da'-lote, T. 

Je-hone-ta-lo'-ga, 
S'har-la-to'-ga, 
Ga-na-sa-da'-ga, T. 
Gau-je'-ah-go-na'- 

ne, G. 
Ah-qua-sos'-ne, G. 



SIGNIFICATION. 

In the Head, 
Beyond the Openings. 
River Beyond the Openings. 
Shipwrecked Canoe. 
Signification lost. (Oneida 

dialect.) 
Noisy. 

Signification lost. 
Side Hill. (Oneida dialect.) 

Sturgeon River. " 
Partridges Drumming. 



Ta'-na-wa'-deh, G. Swift water. 



COUNTIES SOUTH OF THE MOHAWK. 

Otsego Lake, Ote-sa'-ga, T. Signification lost. 

Cooperstown, " " 

Delaware River, 
Cobus Hill, 
New York, 
Long Island, 



Ska-hun-do'-wa, G. In the Plains. 
As-ca-le'-ge, Meaning lost. 

Ga-no'-no, " 

Ga'-wa-nase-geh, A Long Island. (Oneida 

dialect.) 
O-jik'-ha da-ge'-ga, Salt Water. 



Atlantic Ocean, 

Upper Mohawk Cas- 
tle, Ga-ne'-ga-ha'-ga, Possessor of the Flint. 

Middle Mohawk Cas- 
tle, Ga-na-jo-hi'-e, Washing the Basin. 

Lower Mohawk Cas- [er. 



tie, 



Te-ah-ton-ta-lo'-ga, Two Streams coming togeth- 



CANADA. 

Quebec, Ke-a-done-da-a'-ga, Two Forts Contiguous. 

Montreal, Bo-te-a'-ga, Almost Broken. 

Kingston. Ga-dai-o'-que, Fort in the Water. 

Welland River, Jo-no' -dok, G. Signification lost. 

Grand River, Swa'-geh, G. Flowing out. 

Burlington Bay, De-o-na'-sa-de'-o, Where the Sand forms a Bar. 



312 



APPENDIX. 



ENGLISH NAME. 

Queenstown, 

Hamilton, 

Toronto, 

Brock's Monument, 

Cbippeway, 



INDIAN NAME. 

Do-che'-ha-o', 

De-o-na'-sa-de'-o, 
De'-on-do, 

Gus-ta'-ote, 
Jo-no' -dak, 



SIGNIFICATION. 

Where the Mountain dies in 

the River. 
See above. 
Log floating upon the Water. 

Signification lost. 



PENNSYLVANIA. 

Erie, Gus-ha'-wa-ga, On the Body. 

Cornplanter's Village, De-o -no' -sa-da-ga, Burned Houses. 



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